Earth 2010 The Colonies of Kobol Reunited
by Firematt97
Summary: After years on the run from the Cylons, the last Colonial Battlestar named GALACTICA, has finally reached its destination. Safely shepherding the last remnants of humanity to the object of their long journey...Earth.


**Earth 2010 - The Colonies of Kobol Reunited**

4000 years ago, a planet named Kobol was home to the thirteen tribes of humanity. In that time, the thirteenth tribe took to the stars for reasons long forgotten by the history scrolls. Their travels brought them to the third planet orbiting an immense star. This planet was Earth.

2000 years later the remaining 12 tribes abandoned Kobol to form twelve separate and sovereign colonies that existed until the Cylons launched their surprise mission of the total annihilation of the human race. A lone surviving military warship gathered the remnants of humanity totaling less than 50,000 and escaped the star system now controlled by the Cylons who ruthlessly pursue them.

This story takes place 6 months after the Battlestar GALACTICA leads a daring and successful assault on a lone Cylon outpost in an obscure system whose sinister mission was to launch a massive nuclear attack upon the fleet should they show themselves in that sector. There were other such outposts similarly armed with identical mission profiles.

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

"We are almost in our second year fleeing the Cylon Tyranny. Our last major encounter with the Cylons was over six months ago when we successfully disabled a remote enemy outpost. The outpost proved to be a fortuitous treasure trove of desperately needed fuel, rare minerals and a wealth of scavenged materials from the outpost itself. With the limited infrastructure we have to construct new aircraft, we were able to assemble 10 Vipers of the Mark II variety and 3 Raptors. The Cylon composite metals scavenged from the base enabled us to build two stealth Vipers, and one stealth Raptor.

While our offensive and defensive capabilities must be given priority, there was an even greater need for the valuable metals to repair our civilian ships, many that were never conceived for prolonged space flight or hyper light jumps. While I would have preferred to build more fighters, the needs of the fleet were just as great. Every ship carries a maximum fuel load, and an ample amount of tylium was procured from the outpost to be used for future processing into Solium.

Our successful assault on the outpost, and the rewards reaped from our attack could not have taken place without the assistance of a human model Cylon of the three series, this Cylon is identified as D'Anna Biers. This model successfully infiltrated the fleet over a year ago posing as a reporter for the fleet new service, and later was part of the occupying force on New Caprica (See New Caprica entry **for further information).**

At this time, I must report that Captain Matthew Lensherr, Silver Spar's squadron leader, gained her assistance. I find myself at a conundrum regarding this matter. For the second time since the attack on the Colonies, a serving officer in the Colonial Fleet had fraternized with a human model Cylon, resulting in one hybrid child being born, and now the impregnation of the second. Had Captain Lensherr not gained the trust and support of the Cylon known as D'Anna Biers we would not have been successful in our attack on the Cylon outpost. Nor would we have gained the desperately needed fuel and raw materials to continue our escape, or our quest for Earth. The conditions for her assistance required that she be evacuated with our forces when we retreated from the outpost, and the Basestars that arrived to defend it.

Captain Lensherr has not been formally disciplined, but he has received an unofficial letter of reprimand in his personnel file and has been thoroughly debriefed on the mission. He assures me that the Cylon would prove invaluable for intelligence on the enemy, and that her specific model was at odds with the other 12 models views on humanity. Her model most assuredly has been "boxed" by the other Cylons as a severely defective model. At this time, she is placed in restrictive custody aboard the GALACTICA. The Cylon is in her sixth month of pregnancy, and is under constant surveillance and care of the ship's doctor. Captain Lensherr has requested permission to be housed in the restricted facility with the Cylon. His status as the fetus' father has been confirmed, and I have granted permission to his request. He remains on active duty, and as Silver Spar's squadron leader." 

CHAPTER 1

A knock at the door distracted William Adama from his keyboard. "Enter!" he called out. The door opened and in walked his son Major Lee Adama, the GALACTICA's CAG, call sign Apollo.

"Good evening, Admiral. I have the report on fighter readiness." He handed Adama the folder containing the report on Vipers in service, under repair, and the test results for the two new stealth Vipers.

"Six Vipers down, two with landing gear damage, and the rest electrical?" questioned Adama. "You have pilots coming in a little hot on the landings, Major?"

"Aye sir, the pilots have been counseled on their landings. This is the second warning for Lt. West." informed Lee.

"Look Lee, I'm not going to beat a dead horse here, but you need to get these pilots of yours under control. I hear the knuckle-draggers are bitching up a storm about the damaged being done to the decks. Combat landings can't be helped, but damn it if we can't control the non-emergency landings!" Apollo stood at ease before the Admiral's desk, he knew the old man was extremely fair, but when his back hair was up, he could be a hard ass.

"I'll assign Aslan to the deck gang for a tour…let him work out a few dents himself." said Lee.

"Officer thinking Major, is there anything else?" inquired Adama.

"Negative sir, the stealth Vipers have passed all their trials, and the stealth Raptor is set to finish phase two of its test. These new Raptors were a bitch, we only have two aeronautical engineers in the fleet and they logged many hours on the new aircraft. We really need to start that training program for critical areas, sir, engineering and electronics, as well as medical."

"Assign whomever you see fit, Lee. You are right, those areas are critical, and we need to start getting more people on board in those areas. Gods only know how long we'll be searching for Earth." Sighed Adama, signaling the meeting was over.

In the restricted quarters of Captain Matthew Lensherr and his Cylon companion, the two sit on what passes for a couch. Hardly comfortable, and if not for the presence of Lensherr, chances are the furnishings would be worse. One armed guard remained outside the spacious cell. Curtains provided privacy, and there was only one means of egress. No matter how they tried to make it comfortable, it was still a cell.

"You realize by now I am the only Three Series Cylon operating in the universe?" said D'Anna sadly. "Chances are my model was boxed the moment Leoben was downloaded, and he informed the rest that I was a traitor."

"Well I'm glad that I have you safe and sound with me then." said Lensherr giving her a kiss.

"Safe and securely locked up is more like it." She replied tersely.

"Look D'Anna, the Admiral and President know what you did for us back on that outpost. We owe a huge debt to you, but the President was also on New Caprica, and she has not forgotten. If not for the Admiral, she would have had you air locked by now, regardless of what you did for us."

"Laura Roslin…her time in solitary was unfortunate. The Cavils had a particular dislike for her."

"You've provided extremely valuable intelligence to us, and for the last six months we've only encountered one Cylon patrol, and we were able to jump away before their Basestars could get to us. I have to think that the Admiral will start allowing you more freedoms."

"Matthew, they will find us. It is only a matter of time. They have the same reference points leading to Earth's general direction as the fleet does. Have any of you wondered what would happen if the Cylons followed you to earth? What if they aren't advanced to help you fight us off?"

"Fight 'them' off!" countered Lensherr. "You aren't a part of them anymore. They have boxed your entire line, D'Anna…they have effectively murdered you! I do not know what to expect, nobody does. We just have to pray that they are advanced enough to help us, to give us a home." The two embraced, and soon went to bed. The lights dimmed in the cell, and only the faintest light emanated from the guard's post.

Pilot's ready room: Viper pilots from Blue and Silver Spar squadrons were present as the CAG made his way to the podium. "At ease gentlemen…take your seats." Began Apollo.

"We're about to leave this sector. We will be sending out a long-range patrol to see if we have been followed to this point. Raptors will jump further out to ensure that which the Vipers cannot detect; stay awhile, then jump to the last known fleet position where they will meet with a lone Raptor that holds the new jump coordinates for security reasons." Apollo had eyed the young pilots, men and women; some that never served in the Colonial service before, or flew a Viper.

Since the assault on the Colonies, and the destruction of the fleet, skilled people were in tough demand. Artists have become engineers, first responders and medics have become doctors and nurses, and shop keeps have become Tylium refiners. Everyone was forced to except their new realities, and many embraced jobs that they felt made a real contribution to their now modified civilization.

"From now, until the next star system all pilots are to remain duty ready. Get plenty of rest, and the rec room bar is off limits until further notice. I mean it folks…violation of the liquor directive will be met with a week in the brig. I need you people at the top of your game for what's ahead." With that, further information was disseminated, a modified report on the status of the new Stealth Vipers was given to the pilots assigned to them, and the briefing was soon adjourned. Lt. Mark Sarnex call sign Nightstalker remained in the ready room, along with Lt. Brendan Costanza call sign Hotdog and Captain Lensherr, call sign Hephaestus, and Silver Spar's leader.

"Nightstalker, what are your thoughts on the new stealth vipers? I know you've completed the trial run." said Lensherr.

"Well skipper, aside from the great paint job, the thing flies as well as any Mark II I've been on the stick for yet." replied Sarnex. The new stealth vipers were painted black with a darkened canopy. The composite metals made it undetectable to scanners, and the black paint obscured it from visual detection.

"Well you two have been assigned those vipers, which have not gone over well with some of the more vocal pilots of Blue squadron. Starbuck was assigned the stealth Raptor, so they can't bitch too much. The CAG wants those vipers ready to launch at a moments notice, preflight them daily, even if you aren't scheduled to fly." said Lensherr. Turning to Hotdog Lensherr inquires if he had any concerns regarding the new stealth vipers. Hearing none, the three parted ways.

CHAPTER 2

Raptor 2 materialized from its jump and immediately initiated a DRADIS sweep. Lt. Elyssa DeAlma, call sign Poseidon studied her screen intently, her ECO eying his screen also. A planetary mass immediately was detected; a smaller satellite orbited the planet. "Poseidon, I have a bead on a small planetary mass, Equatorial radius of 1137 km. Mean density reads 2060 kg/m3." Reported the ECO.

"Is that the only planet in the system?" DeAlma switched screens to get a better look at what the ECO was seeing himself.

"Negative…looks like we've got at least nine planetary bodies orbiting a yellow star measuring 696,000 km. There are numerous satellites thrown in to the mix. Great place for the toasters to hide a Basestar."

"I don't think so…. We made a big jump. Do we have anything on coms?" Typing a series of keystrokes, a small beeping indicated that they indeed were receiving a broadcast.

"Holy Frak, I'm picking up a signal. It is not a voice, but something I can download. I'm not sure if we will be able to decipher on board, or something GALACTICA can do. I'm recording now, as well as getting a layout of this system."

"I'm marking the coordinates. We're running low on fuel, let's jump back with what we have." said Poseidon as she prepared her preflight for hyper-light jump. "You done back there yet?" asked Poseidon anxiously. "I want to get out of here."

"Transmission completely downloaded, I'm ready anytime you are, Captain." replied the ECO. With that, Raptor 2 jumped out the area back towards the fleet.

Six hours after landing aboard the GALACTICA, the transmissions recorded by Raptor 2 were fully analyzed. In the CIC, Admiral Adama and President Laura Roslin stood anxiously as they studied the COM officer's facial expression. He replayed the signal on his headset, and viewed the schematics on his screen several times. His face was ashen when he turned to Adama.

"Admiral, this transmission is visual. The above message gives a few simple facts about humanity and its knowledge; from left to right are numbers from one to ten, atoms including hydrogen and carbon, some interesting molecules, DNA. There is a diagram of a humanoid with description, basics of the solar system that Raptor 2 jumped into, and basics of the planet based telescope that sent this signal…Admiral this transmission states that it originates from Earth!"

"Good Lords," gasped Roslin. "All this time searching…" her voice trailed off. Adama turned towards his XO. "Colonel Tigh set condition one throughout the ship, I want all ships in the fleet on alert with preset jump coordinates at the ready."

"Admiral, you are going to send a recon patrol to confirm that this indeed is the star system that the 13th tribe fled to, are you not?"

"Madam President, we currently sit less than 50 light years from Raptor 2's last position in that system, with no idea how far behind us the Cylons are. Before I do anything I need to ensure we don't lead the Cylons to this location." Turning back to the XO Adama orders the Cylon in custody escorted to CIC immediately.

Captain Matthew Lensherr and an obviously pregnant D'Anna Biers who wore manacles around her wrists only walked into the CIC in the company of two armed Marines. "Captain, I don't recall asking for you." Said Adama, glancing up from a clipboard containing data. "It doesn't matter I suppose, it may be beneficial to what I'm about to say." Adama proceeded to reveal what Raptor 2 had discovered. The crude diagram was shown to them both, as well as the message contained.

"You realize of course, Admiral that you must not lead the Cylons to this star system!" said D'Anna, looking uncomfortable. Adama turned towards the closest Marine and instructed him to remove her wrist shackles. Lt Russell Smith complied, and kept his hand on his holstered sidearm as a precaution.

"The Cylons had most of the information we had on the constellations leading to Earth thanks to Dr. Baltar. I think it's fair to say that they will eventually get to where we currently are." said Adama.

"Admiral, you must lead them away from this location. If they reach Earth, then they will send every Basestar in the Galaxy to exterminate them. One lone Battlestar will not even delay the inevitable for a moment."

"You have been with us for 6 months now and obviously will be bearing a half human child." began the Admiral, stealing a glance at Lensherr. "You have been extremely cooperative, and have provided valuable intelligence on Cylon military protocol. From the Cylon viewpoint, what would you be doing if you were still with them at this very moment?"

"Despite your best attempts, we had always picked up some residual trail of the fleet's position. A colonial transponder detected faint but always there. By the time the raider would return to its base ship to report its finding the fleet would be gone by the time the base ship could jump to that location. It is time consuming, but eventually a trail is ultimately picked up."

"So we're Fraked then!" interjected Lensherr. "Eventually they will track us to our current location!"

"Admiral would you be willing to accept a recommendation from the enemy?" said D'Anna ignoring her lover's outburst.

"Go on!" replied Adama gravely.

"I have no desire to be 'boxed,' Admiral. I love Matthew and bear his child much to your chagrin. I would not wish to see either harmed. The Cylons are wrong when it comes to the human problem…their term, not mine. We fear that you will seek retribution on us for our near-extermination of your race, and perhaps someday you will when you have grown in numbers. I have aligned myself with your fight for survival. Your survival ensures my survival, as well as Matthew's and our unborn child. You must lead the Cylons away from our present position, and do so soon!"

"How do you propose we do that?" snapped President Roslin, her dislike and distrust for D'Anna evident.

"In the past, a Colonial transponder has always been your dead giveaway. For fleet accountability and security, each ship must have one, and keep it activated. This serves to expose your position as well. I suggest sending a ship on multiple jumps far away from this sector; upon completion of each jump, they would broadcast an amplified burst of transponder signal to simulate multiple Colonial vessels. This may lead the Cylons far enough away in the completely opposite direction of the system that Raptor 2 jumped to."

"Why use a civilian ship, and not a more maneuverable Raptor?" asked Tigh.

"From my knowledge of Raptor systems, they lack a sufficient power source to boost the transponder transmission that a much larger vessel would easily produce. Remember, we have to amplify it further in order for it to appear that the entire fleet is making these jumps." replied D'Anna.

After a few moments of silent reflection, Admiral Adama finally spoke. He looked intently at D'Anna, and using her name for the very first time since she came aboard, he spoke up. "D'Anna, I happen to agree with everything you just said, I can think of no other alternative for luring them away. At this time, I will lift my restrictions on your freedom aboard this ship. With the exception of critical areas such as flight bays, weapons lockers, engineering and the CIC, I will allow you access outside of your cell. From this moment on, you are no longer a prisoner. You obviously threw your lot in with us wretched humans,  
and if not for your assistance back on that Cylon outpost, and subsequent assistance tactical-wise, we would not be here today."

This revelation brought about a horrified glare from the President, who clearly did not like or trust the Cylon. Her professionalism kept her from speaking out on this issue until she had Adama in private and a word with him she would have.

"Captain Lensherr…I want you coordinating with Apollo on this. I am not throwing away one of the civilian ships, we are catastrophically close to being overcrowded as it is. Select a ship with the least population; temporarily assign them throughout the fleet until their ship returns."

"Aye aye, sir…and thank you, sir!"

"Thank you for what Captain?" asked Adama.

"D'Anna's release, sir."

Adama pushed his glasses up onto his forehead and wiped his eyes. "Captain, at this point, I think it's obvious where her loyalties lie. Athena too was held in custody for an even longer period. What the Cylons called a flawed series, I call hope for humanity. See that my good will isn't squandered, because if she isn't what we think her to be she will be air locked without hesitation."

"D'Anna is the real deal. Admiral!" replied Lensherr coming to attention, snapping off a stiff salute.

"She had better be…for all our sakes.

CHAPTER 3

"You know the drill, Starbuck…Raptor 3 will keep a tight fix on our location, Raptor 6 will stay fixed on Raptor 3, you will jump to the selected coordinates, deploy a drone and from there jump with the civilian ship to its first pre-selected coordinates. The civilian ship will release an amplified transponder burst at each jump. If there are any Cylons in the sector, they will pick up the trail and hopefully follow it."

Lt. Kara Thrace; call sign Starbuck was already in her tight-fitting flight suit. Her long blond hair tied tightly in a ponytail. She was a viper pilot assigned to blue squadron, but for a mission of this importance she was chosen to fly the Raptor. She listened intently to Apollo's last minute instructions on her mission.

"After 12 successive jumps, I am to backtrack through my deployed drones and the two Raptors, Colonial transponders both switched off to avoid cross contaminating the false trail. You had better tell the Fraking Viper jocks to confirm identification through visual before pulling their little triggers. I will be seriously pissed if some hotshot sends any rounds downrange at me, or the civilian ship!"

"After you leave, all Colonial Transponders will be immediately shut off throughout the fleet. They are all in a tight formation around the GALACTICA, with all Viper squadrons flying a protective ring. Don't Frak up your plotted coordinates, if you're off then you will have no way to get back with us."

"You just make sure your own pilots don't blow my ass out of the sky upon my arrival!" snapped Starbuck as she slipped her hands into her gloves, and stepped through the Raptor's hatch.

"And what a lovely ass it is Lieutenant, good hunting!" saluted Apollo.

Starbuck piloted her raptor away from the GALACTICA and rendezvoused with the civilian vessel Striker that was outfitted with amplification equipment for its mission. Both vessels jumped out of sight instantly. From that moment on, the fleet shut down all transponders, and went dead in space. The wait would be long.

Admiral William Adama studied the diagram allegedly sent from Earth. It offered no concrete clues as to how advanced they were, or when this signal was sent. He knew he would have to put a plan into operation from when they would reach Earth. He just could not jump into orbit and say, "we're here!" Would they be technologically advanced enough to even detect the approach of a Battlestar, much less one sitting in orbit? News of the fleet's proximity to Earth would have to be kept quiet from everyone who was not in the two-dozen or so personnel in the need to know category. Otherwise, he could risk a riot aboard every vessel due to people wanting to go down to earth. It was understandable they had been cramped into ships never intended for prolonged space flight, denied the basics of life they enjoyed on the 12 worlds, and then very briefly on New Caprica. No, he would have to plan meticulously; he was soon interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Enter." He barked. President Roslin walked in; her green eyes stood out like sparkling emeralds from across the room, an extremely attractive and powerful woman. Right now, she was not very happy.

"I hope I'm not intruding, Admiral!"

"Nonsense, Madam President. I was informed that your shuttle had come aboard, and thought you might be stalking my way!"

"Stalking?"

"Pardon my bluntness, Laura…but I'm well aware that you are not in agreement with my decision to release D'Anna Biers to a more liberal span of freedom aboard my ship."

"So we're now on a first name basis with that thing?"

"Laura…I'm very much aware of what you endured on New Caprica while in Cylon custody. I made a military decision, and you will have to abide by it. You and I made that compromise upon fleeing the holocaust. All decisions military are made by me."

"Fair enough Admiral, but don't think for a minute that I trust her, pregnant or not. Gods, why can't your pilots keep their dicks in their pants?" William Adama rarely heard Laura Roslin speak like that. He knew she was capable, but rarely had he heard it. He laughed loudly until a tear formed in his eye.

"Laura, she has been an incredible help, and if we pull off this plan of luring the Cylons away with a false trail than we will all be indebted to her."

"Well I hope she isn't playing us Bill, because I don't need any excuse to airlock that Fraking toaster!" Adama produced a bottle of blue liquid and poured it into two small glasses. Handing one to Laura he took a sip. It was smooth going down, but packed one hell of a kick if drank too quickly. Laura rolled the liquid around in her glass, and then looked at Adama. "So do you think they have any decent booze on Earth?"

"I sincerely hope so!" laughed Adama.

"So here's my plan, Madam President…when we confirm which planet is Earth, I'm going to send the stealth raptor in on recon. I want to keep the fleet far enough away from the planet to prevent detection. The raptor will act like a vacuum sucking up all the transmissions from the planet and relaying them to the GALACTICA in order for us to evaluate their level of advancement."

"Sounds good so far what are your plans for making our presence known?" asked Roslin.

"Most likely contact the planet's leader, providing there is one. If there are multiple leaderships, than I will have to consider other criteria. There won't be a Battlestar coming in for a flashy landing, if anything I would send an envoy, one military and one civilian…the civilian being you of course to meet with the leadership of Earth.

"And hope the 13th tribe welcomes its long lost brothers and sisters?" said Roslin taking another sip.

"Something like that." smiled Adama.

In the CIC, passive DRADIS sweeps confirmed the presence of every Colonial vessel in a tight formation around the aging Battlestar. All colonial transponders had been shut off, and the sweeps detected the presence of a space ship, but not its identification. Any sweep that produced a differing count would immediately trigger an alert of possible Cylon penetration. The fleet would remain dark until the return of the STRIKER and Starbuck's Raptor from their mission.

"DRADIS report." snapped the XO.

"Passive sweep is clear sir. All ships accounted for and in their assigned position. Viper squadrons all accounted for." Replied Gaeta.

"Alright, enter it into the log. We must remain alert at all times people." said Tigh walking across the bridge, a mug of steaming coffee in his hands. "We're looking at another 24 hours until the Raptor and STRIKER return. Stay Sharp!"

Jump number 11 went off identical to the first 10. Starbuck was getting stiff in her lower back. Long jumps like these were not necessarily brutal, but each jump had to be painstakingly checked, and rechecked. There was no room for any error whatsoever. All communications between the raptor and STRIKER were made possible by visual pulses of light using standardized sequences of short and long elements to represent the letters, numerals, punctuation and special characters of a message. There could be no wireless at all.

All chances of exposing themselves to nearby Cylons had to be aggressively fought at all times. This only added to mental fatigue.

"Frak is my back killing me, Helo." complained Starbuck. Her Electronic Countermeasures Officer just cocked his head and smiled. "One more jump and we're clear to return Kara." replied Karl Agathon, call sign Helo.

"This had better work! Gods forbid we lead the Cylons to Earth and they aren't advanced enough to defend themselves," complained Starbuck. She was tired, but the survival of the fleet, and the 13th tribe on Earth depended on her doing her job without error. She waited the allotted time then signaled the STRIKER to prep for their 12th jump; she flashed them the coordinates, and awaited confirmation from the STRIKER numeral for numeral.

After a short pause the Striker's Captain repeated the jump coordinates, and synchronized times with the Raptor. As soon as they materialized in the new sector, the STRIKER transmitted an amplified signal burst simulating transponders for the entire Colonial fleet.

Dozens of light years away Leoben Conoy locks eyes with two of the Cavil models, all three Cylons had their hands in the thick computerized fluids that filled the control panel of the immense Basestar. "Are you picking the signal up also?" he said.

The Cavils looked at each other, then the one directly opposite Leoben spoke. "The signal is extremely faint, but even at maximum distance it has been identified as Colonial transponders."

"Plotting an intercept course." replied Leoben.

CHAPTER 4

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

With the safe return of the STRIKER and Lt. Thrace, the fleet prepares to jump to the coordinates that hopefully and finally lead to Earth. The mission to lure away whatever Cylon fleet may be close by was a long and arduous task. The civilian population bore the wait well, though many of the fleet's Captains questioned the purpose of going dark, and remaining in a tactical formation around GALACTICA. Fortunately those very same Captains knew how far to press for answers that were obviously not going to be answered.

**Raptors 2, 3, 6 and 8 have finished dispensing jump coordinates via non-wireless transmission to the fleet and have returned to the ship. Our month-long exposure in this sector is now at an end, and the countdown to the jump has commenced. I have studied the visual transmission from Earth, and its rudimentary design could very well indicate a technology far behind our own. On the other hand, it could be a transmission broadcast many decades, or centuries ago. We have been unable to make a determination. I hope to have answers soon. Protecting the surviving members of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol has been my burden and my honor. The Cylons were almost complete in their extermination of our people. Had I stood by my decision to stand and fight, we may have lost humanity. Not being an overly religious man, I pray to the Gods that the lost 13th tribe of Kobol does indeed reside on Earth, and our journey is at an end. **

Kara Thrace pulled the hatch shut. She had been back on board GALACTICA awhile now, but was finally getting the chance to grab a shower and grab some rack time. Pulling off her flight suit, she kicked it into a heap in the corner of the small stateroom that she shared with a small number of pilots. She gathered the bag that contained her toiletries, and walked down the hallway in small tee shirt and shorts with a towel slung over her shoulder.

She was disappointed to see that she was not alone in the head. Lieutenant Mark Sarnex was at the sink shaving, wrapped only in a well-worn towel. Sarnex had noted her entry, and greeted her warmly. "Welcome back, Lieutenant!" he greeted. Starbuck was not a woman normally concerned with modesty, she was even less concerned due to her extreme fatigue and went about stripping away her tee shirt and shorts in front of him. Her body was lean and well toned, courtesy of an intense work out regiment she shared with Lieutenant Russell Smith, officer in charge of the GALACTICA's Marine detachment. Sarnex stopped shaving and stared at the naked Kara Thrace approvingly. The sweat glistened on her skin, breasts near perfect. "You know that's the reason why so many pilots can't concentrate on their landings…you leave them with too many visuals that they can't shake from their minds." joked Sarnex.

"Enjoying the view Nightstalker?" sighed Kara as she retrieved some items from her toiletry bag. She squeezed by him and reached into the shower stall to turn on the water.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. Should I secure the hatch's lock?"

"Not unless you plan on joining me, handsome." she purred turning to him, mere inches between them. "Unfortunately I am not in the mood for yours or anyone else's company at the moment. I'm Fraking exhausted, so you'll just have to take a rain check." With that, she snapped the privacy curtain shut. Sarnex just blinked, smiled and resumed shaving.

"Admiral, one minute to jump." informed Tigh. "I have Blue squadron on ready status in the port launch bay."

"Thank you XO." said Adama. "This is it people, May the Gods grant us safe journey." Turning to Lt. Felix Gaeta, Adama issues the order to "execute jump." Gaeta inserts the FTL key, waits until the clock hits the preset time and turns the key. GALACTICA and her civilian fleet disappear.

Jinzhou Xialingzi Airbase, (Shenyang Military Region) People's Republic of China, Earth. The three military officers sat in the Spartan office of the airbase commander, General Liang. Before him sat his two best fighter pilots, Yu and Shen.

"Gentlemen, the final stage of testing begins this week of the People's two prototype strike fighters. You two will put them through their final paces. "Divine Retribution" is the culmination of the greatest minds in China to produce a strike fighter that will propel the People's Republic well into the 21st century." Said Liang.

Yu was the youngest of the three men present, and by far the most fanatical party member either Liang of Shen had ever encountered, he was smiling broadly. "Comrade General this is a historic day for the People's Republic, we will finally demonstrate the might of our air force. Divine Retribution will be the aircraft that knocks the American F-22 from its perch of air superiority!" said Yu smugly.

"Your confidence is a breath of fresh air, Captain Yu." Said Liang pleasantly. "If only the Air Force possessed 1000 pilots of your determination, and faith in the People's Republic." Yu's face brightened, his ego sufficiently stoked. "Now please Captain, I have matters to discuss with Major Shen…please excuse us, I'm sure you're chafing to get down to your plane for preflight."

"Very much so Comrade General!"

With that Yu had stood, saluted smartly and executed an about face. He left the room with all military precision. Liang leaned back in his chair and fished a cigarette from a full pack, tossing the pack over the desk to Shen.

"Now tell me what I need to know, Shen…and not what you think I want to hear!" The request was not even needed, the two men were very old friends and speaking his mind was something Major Shen had no difficulty with when in the presence of his old friend, and superior officer.

"That man is a complete ignoramus, General!" said Shen flatly. Liang laughing almost choked on the smoke he had inhaled.

"An ignoramus he may be, my friend…but he holds very good connections in the party. I suspect he will be one of 'their' rising stars!" sighed the old man. "Seriously though, what are your thoughts on the prototype?"

"Divine Retribution no doubt is the most advanced strike fighter ever designed by China. Our best engineers labored years over this project. Flying it makes me feel 25 again, but Yu's claim regarding 'knocking the American Raptor off its perch of superiority…that is a claim that I would caution against trying to set in stone."

"So you believe that it is an inferior fighter?"

"I just don't know. I would dearly love to test her against the Americans, but the F-22 Raptor is the premiere strike fighter the world has ever known. There is much about it that we have yet to determine. I am a professional military officer, and have been a combat fighter pilot most of my career. Party politics do not cloud my judgment. Yu's vision is so clouded by dreams of Mao and Communism that I fear it will be his Achilles heel someday."

"You and I are cut from a different cloth my friend, but you must always be on guard against expressing your personal views too publicly. The Party has ears everywhere. I do agree with your assessment of Yu however, he should be watched closely. Tell me old friend, would you be willing to risk your life engaging the American's F-22 with our latest aircraft?"

"Out of professional curiosity, and the thrill of aerial combat yes…to willingly get shot down by a superior fighter for party dogma…not if I can help it. I would truly wish to prove our fighter against the Americans, because for all the rhetoric about them being weak, their Air Force is anything but weak, and is a force to be respected."

Liang stood indicating the meeting was at an end. "You may soon get that wish, old friend. In the meantime, final testing takes place this week. Show me what that plane can do!" They clasped hands and departed. Shen headed for the hangers.

The planet Pluto, cold, dark and foreboding. Its icy surface barely reflecting the light from the sun 4,437 million km away. The faint light in the outermost reaches of the solar system gets a boost by the sudden dazzling flashes of light produced by the arrival of roughly 70 space ships from a hyper-light jump.

Lt. Felix Gaeta switched on the GALACTICA's transponder, waited one minute than began a DRADIS sweep. A smile spread across his face. "Admiral all ships present and accounted for. As each ship completed their jump, they activated their Colonial transponder as planned. We've got everyone!" A round of applause and cheers swept through the CIC, and Admiral Adama shook the hands of his XO.

"Excellent work, people!" Said the Admiral loudly. If our information is accurate, we have now entered the solar system that allegedly contains the planet Earth." The GALACTICA had assumed a forward position; two more jumps would be required to get them to Earth. Adama had worked feverishly with his senior staff and the President on the plans to recon Earth. The new stealth Raptor would enter the atmosphere and conduct its monitoring of the transmissions being broadcast. They would have to learn everything they could about their potential new world before announcing their presence.

"Colonel Tigh, please schedule a briefing in the pilot's ready room with the CAG, Lieutenant Valeri, and the Viper escort team. We will brief the remaining squadrons at a later date."

"Aye sir!"

Completing the final two jumps, the fleet had maintained a position on the far side of Earth's moon. They would keep the satellite between them and the Earth as to avoid detection by land-based and orbiting detection systems, if such systems existed. No chances would be taken. The Earth's moon measured 3,450 km. plenty of room to conceal 70 odd ships, as long as they maintained their orbits.

In the pilot's ready room, the briefing was well under way. "Lieutenant I can't stress the importance of remaining undetected. It is vital for you to maintain the assigned atmosphere to start your monitoring." The stealth Raptor would in effect become a vacuum cleaner for information in every mode of transmission. Whatever was gleaned from the data 'sucked up' would determine how advanced Earth was.

"Two stealth vipers flown by Nightstalker and Hotdog will escort you as far as the ionosphere and will remain on station as long as fuel permits. You will proceed down as far as the stratosphere to conduct your assignment. We do not know what kind of surveillance  
capabilities there are, but I want you to be ready to bug out if you feel your position has been compromised."

CHAPTER 5

Lieutenants Mark Sarnex and Brendan Costanza sat in the seats of their stealth Vipers. The three Voram engines on each viper whined loudly as the prepared to be sent hurtling down the launch tubes. Normally white with red trim and squadron insignia, these Mark II Vipers were flat black, and the canopy was tinted slightly darker. These two Vipers were part of the ten Vipers newly built from materials obtained by the Cylon outpost months back. These fresh Vipers could not have come at a better time, for the GALACTICA was sorely short on combat ready Vipers. Very few were in better than 'good' condition. There was no longer a manufacturing facility on Caprica that turned out Vipers by the hundreds, and there were very few Mark VII Vipers left either. With the help of the Pegasus deck gang, the GALACTICA was able to build a small-scale manufacturing plant. It went unused due to lack of materials to build a Viper. That all ended when the GALACTICA took out the Cylon outpost.

The Landing Signal Officer (LSO) after confirming that the Viper was set to launch threw the switch that activated the magnetic catapult, which throws the Viper out at a great speed. After clearing the GALACTICA, the two Vipers form up on each other and approach the Raptor on its port side. Opening a COM frequency, Sarnex contacts Athena. "Vipers 2212 and 2213 on your port wing, Athena."

"Message received, Nightstalker. Stay on my eight o'clock and kick in the burn." The three ships made their way free of the protection of Earth's moon and headed straight for Earth's orbit. The ships gently shuddered as the gravitational pull increased.

The beauty before her awed Sharon, a blue ocean, incredible landmasses, was this too good to be true she mused. Helo, her ECO and father of her half-human half Cylon child prepared his equipment, after doing the appropriate checks, he reports all is ready. Her DRADIS is clear, and she drops further into Earth's atmosphere. The two Vipers pull back and return to orbit.

"Sharon I'm beginning the scan, multiple transmissions via surface to orbit, most likely orbiting satellites; I have tropospheric transmissions and various other signals. The computer is recording them, and cataloging them by method of transmission." Informed Helo.

"Very good, DRADIS is clear; our current altitude is 30 km above the surface.

Captain Yu pulled his Chengdu J-50 fighter into a steep climb. The jets thundered and the energy coursing through his body was electric. He commanded the most powerful jet fighter ever conceived by Chinese design. Today was a live fire drill, and on each wing was located an air-to-air missile. His target would be a remote controlled Russian Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-19. He was to overtake and destroy the target.

"Hardly a worthy adversary, an antiquated Russian Mig from the 1950's." thought Yu with a tinge of disgust. "Give me an American Raptor in my gun sights any day!" He banked hard and headed in the direction of the Mig, and increased his speed to Mach 2.

Yokota Airbase, Japan.  
Colonel Paul Allen is briefed on the current situation in his backyard; he enters General Hayworth's office.

"General, our AWACS are tracking that new Chinese fighter they've been trying to keep quiet about. Looks like he is on some live fire drill over their coast. We have a track on him."

"What do we have in the area?"

"We have four F-22's en route to SK for a joint training session with one of their squadrons."

"Those slant eyed bastards have been trying to rattle their sabers for some time now, they have a new toy and are trying to demonstrate its prowess by holding a live fire exercise that far out from…what's that base again, Jinzhou Airbase??"

"I'd like to send them a real fighter to test their mettle on. See how fast one of our Raptors sends one of their new toys in the drink!" laughed Allen.

"Keep an eye on them Paul, have the AWACS use their heads. We don't need a repeat of that 2001 business over the South China Sea."

"Yes sir."

Athena had dropped further into Earth's atmosphere unchallenged. She was collecting extremely valuable and copious amounts of intelligence. She could have used two more Raptors to help. The DRADIS warning chirped in her ear. "What have you got Helo?"

"I have two contacts bearing 4.0 moving at high speed in our direction."

"Have we been spotted?"

"Unknown, but target two is closing fast on target one. Wait…he launched a missile, its locked on target one…no effort is being made to evade the shot."

"Oh Frak, what have we gotten ourselves into? Okay, start shutting down, we'll re-enter orbit and transmit what we have to GALACTICA."

As the two prepared to leave the airspace Yu's missile streaked toward the Mig drone at high speed. It slammed into the port engine causing instant destruction. "Yes!" Yu through clenched teeth. The new missile was extraordinarily fast, much faster than what the rest of the air force currently had on their rails. He increased speed and turned left to avoid flying through the debris field. A glint at one o'clock high caught his attention; he was not alone out here. How did he not pick up an intruder on his radar, more importantly…why had the coastal defense radars not alerted him to the presence of another plane? He decided to take a closer look.

"Oh Frak we've been made!" yelled Helo. Incoming bogey, no doubt he must have got a visual on us!"

Athena swore silently to herself and pulled back hard on the yoke, putting as much space between her Raptor and that Earth plane as possible. She throttled up, and the Colonial Raptor started to race for the upper atmosphere. The Chinese fighter followed suit at Mach 2.5.

Yu's anger started to bubble to the surface as he pushed his fighter even faster on a steep vertical climb. The damned Americans he thought, they think they own every aspect of the skies, and dared to intrude on Chinese airspace, he thought. Why had he not been warned by the base, why are there no alert fighters coming to his aid? The Americans were spying on their new strike fighter, and this intruder was obviously a reconnaissance plane with stealth technology. He was not going to allow his top secret testing to reach the Pentagon. This American dog would not get home today. He was trespassing in sovereign Chinese air space; he would be well within his right to shoot it down. He opened up communications with the base.

"Strike prototype two to Golden Dragon, I have discovered unidentified surveillance plane monitoring exercises…he's making a break for it, I am in pursuit."

The officer in charge at the Jinzhou Xialingzi Airbase, code named Golden Dragon was confused. Nothing had penetrated their defensive radar perimeter. Even an American Stealth plane would have produced an extremely short 'glitch" that only the most season radar officer could possibly detect, and those were definitely on duty for that very reason with the testing of their newest aircraft. Security was paramount.

"Prototype 2, this is Golden Dragon, we have nothing on our radar. Can you confirm?"

"Golden Dragon, I have visual only, my radar is not picking them up. It is clearly an aircraft, black in color, two engine aircraft…extremely fast and attempting to flee."

Shen was listening to every word of Yu's transmission. He banked his fighter and headed for Yu's last coordinates. He worried that Yu would do something rash and create an international incident, however if he was correct, than the intruder had provided justification for being shot down, thus creating an International Incident. He was three minutes out at his present speed.

"Helo what's our status?" asked Athena.

"He's still on our asses. I'm getting DRADIS-type sweeps painting the skies, but it isn't locking on us. Our stealth is fully functioning… this bogey is tracking us by eye, we need to shake him."

"Fraking humans are already leaving me with a bad impression." muttered Athena as she increased her throttles, racing for the ceiling.

Yu's altimeter was climbing rapidly; he was already at 58,000 feet and climbing fast. The Chengdu J-50 had a maximum ceiling of 70,000 feet. The aircraft before him was accelerating even faster. He had one shot. His afterburners flared brighter as he continued to climb, his anger grew with every passing moment. "The arrogance of the American military learns a lesson this day, today the People's Republic of China reclaims its mantle of World Leader." Yu did not hear the audible alarm, or red warning light indicating that he was pushing his aircraft to the extreme. He suffered from tunnel vision now; his only goal was to shoot down this American intruder. This was the instability in Yu's character that Shen feared. In a professional military unencumbered by party politics, Yu would never have been cleared to fly combat fighters.

He armed his one remaining missile, and fired. Yu was snapped back to reality when his aircraft shuddered in response to the loud bang he heard. It wasn't until now that Yu realized he could see the curvature of the earth, cloud cover gave way to faint glimpses of the stars, he was up way farther than his aircraft was rated for. The control panels in the cockpit lit up like a Christmas tree, an engine stall light flashed ominously.

"Oh Frak… incoming missile… incoming missile. That bogey got off a shot." Yelled Helo.

"We need help here," replied Athena as she opened her coms to contact the two stealth vipers still in orbit. "Krypter, krypter, krypter, Raptor 1 declaring an emergency."

Nightstalker and Hotdog's vipers had already kicked into full burn at the first word of the distress signal from Raptor 1. They were already breaking the atmosphere and both pilots braced for atmospheric flight mode. Hotdog's DRADIS had detected the ascending Raptor, with a smaller aircraft in pursuit. "Nightstalker I have Raptor 1 on my DRADIS, looks like she encountered an Earth aircraft and is attempting evasion."

"Roger Hotdog, lets get in there!"

Yu attempted three engine restarts without success, his fighter started to drop aft first. His panic level rising, he knew that at this altitude there would be no survival from that ejection. He prayed he could safely control his powerless descent and restart his engines. His prayers were soon answered, but not in the way he expected. His left wing had shorn off, which resulted in the beginning of a spin that he would not recover. He closed his eyes, and prayed to God.

The Earth made missile was fired at near point blank range, but Helo deployed every countermeasure at his disposal. The missile struck one of them and detonated sending shrapnel in all directions. The Raptor took a hit to its underbelly. Audible warnings sounded throughout the cabin, the structure had been compromised, and Helo quickly attached a magnetic "plug" over the hole in the decking.

"Frak, I have too many warning lights lit up to attempt breaching the atmosphere, better to put down and reevaluate the damage before attempting space flight." Informed Athena. She cut her speed and turned back towards the surface. "Find us a spot to put down, unless they have more birds in the air we should be able to evade radar."

"Aye, aye."

At this moment Shen was at better than Mach 2 on his approach. His only signal was a rapidly breaking up Chengdu J-50 falling to Earth. He later would find out that it was Yu's aircraft when the recovery teams would locate what was left of the wreckage. He noticed a trail of black smoke gradually descending. At the head of that trail was a large boxy aircraft. He too gave pursuit. The aircraft was fast departing Chinese airspace. If this was indeed an American Reconnaissance plane, it could not be allowed to leave with whatever footage it obtained, that order came direct from General Liang. He had no missiles, but he did have his guns. He switched on his targeting computer.

At that moment, the American AWACS plane had transmitted what they had witnessed to command at Yokota airbase. They were reporting the strange behavior of the Chinese fighter making an insane climb to the limits of Earth's atmosphere and firing a missile. They also reported its demise, and a second fighter entering the area. Yakutat command had diverted their squadron of F-22 Raptors from a training mission with South Korea's air force, to the airspace immediately outside of Chinese control. A refueling tanker was dispatched to top off all four American planes.

The tone in Helo's voice indicated his anxiety. "We have another Earth aircraft on an intercept course, same signature as the one that fired on us." Another signal had caught his attention; he was elated to see that they produced Colonial transponders. "Calvary has arrived Sharon, stealth vipers inbound!"

Nightstalker had the Chinese fighter on his DRADIS and bore down mercilessly on him. He had no authorization to destroy the aircraft, but he could put the fear of the Gods into its pilot. His stealth viper invisible to any radar Earth possessed. Hotdog was positioned off Nightstalker's port wing high.

Shen was closing on the foreign aircraft, yet he was almost out of China's air space, he would have to act fast. The first indication he had to something very wrong was the black blur that raced past the front of his aircraft. The turbulence he flew through almost ripped his nose clean off. Multiple warning lights and audible sounded through his cockpit. Once he regained complete control of his fighter, he started to scan the skies. He caught two unidentified aircraft at his 5 o'clock position, and turning fast, now almost completely on his 6'o'clock position, a very perilous position for any fighter pilot to find himself in. He pushed his fighter into a high-speed dive and made for some cloud cover. The two strange aircraft caught up with him moments later; one on each side of his aircraft, both black, and the strangest shaped aircraft Shen had ever seen.

Hotdog dropped back and low while Nightstalker kicked in the burn and cut straight in front of Sheen's fighter causing massive turbulence. Shen rolled left and made a desperate dash for the Chinese coast. The vipers let him run and assumed a defensive position on each side of the damaged Raptor.

"Athena…. Nightstalker, what is your status?"

"I have a cabin breach, and numerous alarms going off. I have control, but I need to set her down somewhere fast. The shock of the explosion may have triggered the sensors in question, but I cannot run a full diagnostic test until I'm on the ground. The breach needs to be reinforced before I can attempt to break orbit."

"Roger Raptor 1. There is a land mass close by for you to do a vertical landing, but we'll have to remain airborne. Get her down, and run your checks and repairs fast. That bogey will probably be back with friends," said Nightstalker.

Unknown to the Colonial aircraft, the nearest land mass was South Korea. On an intercept course was four F-22 Raptors from the United State's Air force sent to investigate what the AWACS had reported. Lieutenant Colonel Roger McElkenny was flying lead Raptor. He had already received word that the Chinese fighter had returned to the Chinese coastline after some erratic flying.

In the distance, he had noticed a black contrail. It was closing on the Korean peninsula, and as he got closer he noticed two smaller aircraft also, one on each side of the larger craft that was obviously damaged and trailing smoke. After reporting this to Yakutat, he flew closer and opened a frequency. "This is the United States Air force, calling unidentified aircraft approaching Korean Peninsula…identify yourselves." Ordered McElkenny, call sign 'Thunder.'

Sharon had turned around and glanced at Helo. "Are you Fraking kidding me?" was the only response.

"No, incoming aircraft are broadcasting to us to identify. Apparently we are entering restricted air space." replied Helo.

"Oh for the love of the Gods, we don't have time for this. Have the stealth's run interference!"

Nightstalker had received the same message, and instructed Hotdog to alter course for the inbound Earth aircraft. "At least these guys came talking first." Quipped Hotdog.

"Irrelevant Hotdog, we need to keep them busy so Athena can set down for repairs. Weapons are not free, but let's see what these guys can do." The two vipers peeled off and flew towards the F-22s. Athena gently lowered the Raptor closer to the surface. Her scanners showed a remote terrain suitable to set down.

"This is Thunder, two aircraft heading on an intercept track, the third appears to be setting down, and it looks damaged. Stand by on weapons…do not fire until fired upon! All wings confirm!" The remaining three Raptors signaled their reply and proceeded cautiously. South Korean military forces had been alerted to the incoming aircraft that strangely defied radar detection. That would be their problem, he thought. McElkenny switched on his wing camera; he would have to get these two strange aircraft photographed. They were unlike anything he had seen before.

"Hotdog, break left, let's see if we can lead them away from Athena." Ordered Nightstalker. Without reply, Lieutenant Brendan Costanza executed a sharp turn, and as predicted, two of the earth aircraft followed. The other two gave chase to Nightstalker.

Athena set the Raptor down on solid ground; the terrain was thankfully flat, but very rocky. Structures could be seen at least 60 miles out. With luck, they remained undetected to radar, and could evade discovery for a short period. Eventually the Earth people would send out an armed patrol. "Okay Helo, lets make this fast, I'll run the diagnostics, you get to patching that breach on both sides of the decking. I want no issues when we break orbit. I'm not concerned about depressurization if we were already in space when it happened, but I don't want to see it exacerbated when we try to break orbit."

"Night, these guys are good. They are matching me turn for turn but not engaging. Pretty fast planes, but I still haven't poured it on yet." Said Hotdog.

"Hold off on the burn, Hotdog. We need to hold their attention until Athena is ready to make a break for orbit." Replied Nightstalker.

Thunder was amazed at the flying happening right before his eyes. He felt like the one being toyed with and it was a feeling he clearly did not like. He was getting some great digital shots of the strange aircraft, there were three engines, and the shape of the aircraft was bizarre. He was confounded why he could not get a radar lock on the aircraft. The thought of extra terrestrial briefly flashed through his mind, a thought he quickly dismissed, almost embarrassed to have even thought of such a thing.

The speed of the F-22 Raptor was highly classified, but it was better than Mach 2.5 and Thunder had accelerated to gain on the black colored aircraft. He matched Nightstalker's turn for turn. Lieutenant Mark Sarnex was highly impressed with his pursuer's skill. It was a shame he could not continue the chase, eventually the Earth ships would have to engage him, and he clearly did not want to face that scenario.

Lt. Sharon Valeri was familiar with every system on her Raptor. This new stealth Raptor however, was what you would call the "stripped down model." Without a proper manufacturing plant and resources, the GALACTICA was limited in what she could reproduce in the way of Raptors. There were far many more systems involved than a Mark II Viper, and some systems normally found in a Raptor was missing from this new stealth Raptor. Her diagnostics went smoothly, and Helo had already made his repairs to the damage to the hull. The possibility of further damaging the breach upon escaping Earth orbit was limited.

"All right Helo, start preflight," ordered Athena. The two began an abbreviated pre-flight check, they were sitting targets, and the sound of aircraft was unmistakably heading their way. In the distance, South Korean versions of the Black Hawk helicopter were flying at treetop levels in a search pattern. In time, they would be upon them.

"Nightstalker this is Athena, repairs made, and we're ready for take off. I'm about to have company, at least four rotary-powered aircraft will be on top of me within 5 minutes."

"Message received, Raptor 1. Do not waste any time making orbit, our presence is already known; do not worry about the sonic booms. They can't track us, and will spend the rest of the day scratching their heads wondering who the hell we are." replied Sarnex.

The stealth Raptor was soon airborne, and well within visual range of the helicopters searching for it; the instantly converged on the strange craft that continued to climb. Pulling back the yoke Sharon once again made a break for the upper atmosphere. Going to full power she quickly left the much slower helicopters in her wake. The series of sonic booms trailed her as she ascended.

Hotdog had caught the Raptor on his DRADIS. "Nightstalker, Raptor 1 is airborne and burning a hole in the sky, heading for the stars."

"Time to end this Hotdog, make a break for orbit!" ordered Sarnex as he pulled back on the stick, his foot jamming the thruster pedal to the floor. Lieutenant Colonel McElkenny was awestruck by the maneuverability and speed of the unidentified flying object before him. He knew instantly that he would not catch the strange black plane now leaving the area. Nevertheless, where was he heading? They were already at 50,000 feet. Hotdog had slowed his Viper considerably, allowing two of the Earth fighters to come alongside him. He glanced over at the earth aircraft, clearly impressed by the design. He could see the black blast shield of the pilot's helmet clearly. He turned to the plane on his right, smiled, snapped out a salute and then waved goodbye as he kicked in the burners. The pilots of both planes would never forget this moment. In seconds, all three Colonial craft were out of visual range, and breaking free of Earth's gravity.

CHAPTER 6

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

"Our first encounter with Earth was not at all what was expected, nor was the outcome pleasing to the President, or me. The stealth team was supposed to avoid all contact with the humans. Somehow, the Raptor was spotted and engaged by an Earth fighter plane. The Raptor was damaged, and the Earth fighter destroyed when it attempted to pursue the Raptor to a height that it was clearly not designed to operate in.

The stealth vipers were engaged, but not fired upon by Earth aircraft unlike the ones that engaged Lt. Valeri's reconnaissance mission. After a week of sorting through the intelligence gathered by the Raptor, it has been determined that Earth has multiple governments. From what we were able to gather the government that engaged the Raptor was a belligerent nation known as the People's Republic of China. Our Raptor was spotted in their air space, and their reaction was to shoot it down.

The Earth fighters (oddly enough categorized as F-22 Raptors) that engaged the Vipers were identified as military from the United State's Air Force. We have determined that The United States is the most powerful government on Earth. Officially known as the United States of America, from the information via educational programming, and media transmissions we have concluded that the United States is the foremost power on the planet, and most advanced. However, their level of technology is far behind our own, as we feared. This world is factional, at war with itself. Currently there is no active warfare, but there are tensions amongst the 'super powers.' A meeting of the Council of Twelve is scheduled for tomorrow where I will brief them on what we know of Earth. As of this moment, knowledge of Earth, and our proximity to it has been classified Top Secret. President Roslin has briefed the Council in a separate session, and I have been assured that each fully understands the gravity of keeping this information secret from the fleet for the time being.

The information gleaned from our recon has proven invaluable. While their advancement in space travel is very limited, it has been determined that they have formidable air and land forces. There are large segments of civil society, and I am cautiously optimistic about them. A more in-depth study would have to be made to determine how far behind us they actually are. This could only be conducted with cooperation from Earth's governments. With any Cylon pursuit led in the opposite **direction, we have the time to spare to conduct that study without having to worry about looking over our shoulders.**

Yokota Airbase.  
The large conference room is host to the highest-ranking members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Air Force, the White House, DIA and various other agencies that do not exist. On the wall monitor is clear images of the black fighter craft at various angles taken by the wing cameras of all four F-22's. All four pilots attended as well. One photo obviously taken at a greater distance shows a less stream lined, and larger black aircraft.

"Gentlemen, our intelligence sources have confirmed that these planes are not Chinese, Russian, British, French or Israeli." stated the four star general. "Those five countries listed outside of ourselves possess the most advanced aircraft in the world…and we cannot tie these photos to any of them. They defied our best efforts to track them via radar from our fighters, land based units and AWACS that were very close by. Apparently, one of China's prototype fighters attempted to shoot the larger aircraft down and was disabled in the attempt. Our sources confirm that wreckage from that fighter has been found in very small amounts. The Chinese are saying nothing, predictably."

"What are the chances of these three aircraft being extraterrestrial?" queried the White house liaison. Normally a question like that would have been laughed outside the room, but after hearing the testimony from the four F-22 pilots with impeccable records, and the camera footage, the possibilities were very real. Especially when all three black aircraft were visually seen entering the highest altitudes of Earth's atmosphere with no indication of stopping or deviating from their flight paths.

"I would normally hesitate to even respond to that kind of question, Mr. Thompson, but we aren't left with many credible answers. The facts are these; four United States military aircraft intercepted, verified, and photographed aircraft never before seen in any country's arsenal. Through Presidential directive, we have been assured that our base at Groom Lake in Nevada neither is testing, nor possesses such aircraft." replied the unnamed General.

"So we have the very real possibility that these were…extraterrestrial?" Said the liaison from Defense Intelligence.

"Captain Webber stated that he was close enough to the aircraft to witness the pilot salute and wave to him as he departed at high speed. The canopy was tinted, but he states that he could see a silhouette with a lighted helmet display those gestures. There were no other markings on the aircraft as these pictures that we had blown up to maximum display."

"What about the Chinese fighter that got away?"

"Our AWACS tracked him moving at high speed back to China, most likely to Jinzhou Xialingzi Airbase." informed a full Colonel. "I doubt the Chinese high command will comment one way or the other, especially to our inquiries. However, you can bet that pilot was seriously debriefed. They lost one of two prototypes of their newest strike fighter, they will want answers!"

The man from the White House gathered his papers and placed them in his briefcase. "I will inform the President of what we discussed here. If this is going where I think its going than I'm sure he will be taking part first hand in further discussions." The President of the United States was a serious man, former military officer who was respected on both sides of the ideological platform. He was viewed as a breath of fresh air from the previous occupant of the White House, who presided over a very unpopular war that left the Middle East a simmering powder keg. His administration was working overtime to mend many fences.

The four star General stood. "Gentlemen I'm sure I don't need to insult your intelligence by reminding you of the secrecy of this meeting. We will be in touch!" With that, all men present returned to where they were assigned.

Conference chambers aboard Colonial 1.  
Adama sat at the far end of the table listening intently to the many questions shot at him from one representative of the council after another.

"Admiral, what are your plans for contacting Earth's government?" asked the representative from Eloisa.

"The President and I have agreed that contact should be made with the leader of the United States of America. His title is also President, and according to our data, this government is the defacto world leader. However, it is obvious there is dispute to that view from many of Earth's populous. Earth is not one united tribe as we suspected, but a mixture of races with separate borders and governments. We have identified five major powers, and many smaller ones. The United States sits at the top technologically, financially, and militarily."

President Laura Roslin spoke next. "Distinguished members of the council, with our journey hopefully at an end we find ourselves facing a civilization not as advanced as our own. The 13th tribe of Kobol has not mastered space flight beyond their moon. I fear that we have not found an equal in our ability to repel the Cylons if they appear."

"Surely we haven't traveled all this way, endured so much just to keep going?" asked the representative from Aerilon.

"No, absolutely not, though we cannot make any further determination on our future without discussion with the representatives from Earth." replied Roslin.

Adama stood up. "Members of the council…we will be making contact with Earth's military through frequencies obtained and analyzed by the GALACTICA. They may regard the transmission as a hoax, and our research indicates that Earth's population isn't in the majority of believing life exists beyond themselves; a revealing level of arrogance, but one that can be overcome."

"How so, Admiral?" asked the representative from Picon.

"The United States military appears very secretive; we have been able to learn about conspiracies about their military bases in the western half of their continent. Bases rumored to be harboring proof of extra terrestrial life and spacecraft. The base is referred to as Area 51 or Groom Lake. If a transmission from outside of Earth is broadcast to them, I doubt they will reveal it to their population. I plan to move the GALACTICA out from the protection of Earth's moon, and will forward the coordinates to them to satisfy their curiosity about the authenticity of the message they will receive."

The President cut in, as Adama sat back down. "At that point, there should be no further doubt as to our existence, and we will request a meeting with their leadership, both civilian and military in a secure location. This will be an event unlike any they have encountered before, I'm guessing. I'm sure they will maintain extremely airtight security levels." said Roslin.

"Who will go to meet with the Earth representatives?" asked the representative from Virgo.

"The GALACTICA's executive officer Colonel Tigh, one representative from the Council of Twelve, a Priest and I. We will travel by Raptor under viper escort to a secure location of their leadership's choosing." Replied Roslin.

"Why so few, and why not the Admiral himself?" demanded the Picon representative.

"The Admiral will meet with the Earth Leadership at a future date, for security reasons I've asked, and he concurred to remain in orbit aboard the GALACTICA in the event of a Cylon appearance which is highly doubtful. The make-up of the representatives was deliberately kept small as to not overwhelm further what will already be an overwhelming experience for all of us." Laura sat down and smiled; her green eyes flashed. She could not believe this moment had finally arrived. "Well if there are no further questions…May the Lords of Kobol bless us on our journey, and allow it to bear fruit."

Officer's quarters.  
Lieutenant Elyssa DeAlma stretched out on her rack; she just finished her shift and was looking forward to some sleep. Athena was slipping into a crisp duty uniform as she prepared to start her day; pulling her hair back tightly into a military authorized ponytail. "Do you think you'll be making the return trip to Earth, Sharon?"

"I hope so," she replied as she slipped into her highly polished boots. "My first experience was harrowing, but definitely one for the books. The assignments for Earth should be doled out at the 1400-hour briefing. I'm hoping to be in the rotation. Earth has to be one of the most beautiful planets I have ever seen, Elyssa. It gives Caprica a run for its money and far greater land masses."

"What are the chances that colonization will precede smoothly?" she asked rhetorically. "From what we've seen their technology is far behind our own."

"Yes, but they have a place to live, we do not! If we stay, there will be a serious adjustment period for both peoples."

"For ground beneath my feet, fresh air to breath, and blue skies above my head…I don't care if the technology is one step above stone knives and caves." laughed Poseidon. Switching off the lights, Sharon pulled the hatch shut and walked to the pilot's ready room.

Inside the ready room, Athena took a seat next to Helo as the CAG took to the podium. Pilots from both Silver Spar and Blue squadrons filled the room. Starbuck took a seat next to Lieutenant Nina Nintius, call sign Betty. "Afternoon Betty." The two shared a history; both graduated from the academy and received their commissions at roughly the same time.

"You figure on getting the Earth assignment?" asked Starbuck.

"Well I am the best Raptor pilot in the fleet, it would make sense to want their best on the stick." said Nina, a sly grin across her face. Humility was not her strongest trait; something that Starbuck appreciated and admired about her very much. The Admiral walked into the room and all pilots jumped to their feet as Apollo called them to attention.

"As you were people!" said Adama gesturing them to take their seats. "Are all my Viper pilots here?"

"Everyone not assigned to the CAP, Admiral." replied Apollo.

Adama adjusted his glasses. "As you all know, we have maintained a position of cover on the far side of Earth's moon. We will soon be making contact with representatives of Earth's government to schedule a meeting between our representatives and theirs. This will be an extremely complex situation due to Earth's level of advancement. From what we have gathered, Earth has very limited space flight capability, and a majority held belief that they are the only intelligent life forms in the galaxy. Our presence may be viewed with a great degree of skepticism, but nothing that has not been planned for."

The Admiral walked over to a side table, pouring himself a mug of coffee. Taking a long swig, he grimaced. "Glad to see the quality of pilot's coffee hasn't changed since I flew a Viper." laughed Adama. He returned to the podium, and used a hand held device to activate a wall monitor that Apollo had prepared prior to his arrival.

"Our plan is to send a delegation down to a location of their choosing. Raptor 1 flown by Betty will transport the President, the XO, and a member of the Council of Twelve, a priest, and two armed Marines. Four Vipers will escort the Raptor to the surface. Those pilots will be Apollo, Starbuck, Falcon and Gambler."

Lensherr sat stone-faced in his chair. He was hoping that his squadron would be used in some capacity for this mission, or at the very least, he would be assigned to the detail himself.

Adama turned to Lensherr as if he was reading his mind. "Hephaestus, I want you on standby with Hotdog, Nightstalker, Hotdog and Aslan. I do not expect a repeat of what happened with our first excursion down to the planet, but I want alert fighters ready to go at a moment's notice in the event something goes down. Blue squadron's sole mission is to defend the Raptor."

"Aye aye, sir." replied Hephaestus. "Sir, how do we expect to make contact with Earth?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we had to determine a way to communicate with the United States government. Nightstalker has done an exceptional job doubling as the Fleet's Intel officer, Lieutenant Sarnex will explain his plan for the days ahead…Lieutenant."

"Thank you admiral, we have already identified the United States military airbase at Groom Lake as our primary point of contact. I will be using the stealth Raptor equipped with communications equipment to analyze their communications and report back to you on the optimum method of communicating with them."

Four days later Mark Sarnex reconvenes the staff meeting regarding making contact with Earth.

"Admiral Adama, ladies and gentlemen, our analysis shows that the Groom Lake base uses a variety of communication methods over a wide frequency band. We do not believe that we can successfully communicate on their frequency hopping transmissions, nor have we been consistently successful in exploiting the algorithms used in their scramblers. Obviously, we cannot tap into their land line communications, nor would we be successful with their multi-channel equipment since we don't know a number of things about their modalities…"

"What can we do, Lieutenant?" asked Adama.

"We eliminated several bands as being too active for our purposes, but we accidentally found one frequency outside their normal communication bands, hidden between several of their DRADIS emitters; they call DRADIS 'Radar,' and this one frequency never changes. It is called the 'Guard frequency,' and is seldom used. Fortunately, the primary language spoken is almost identical to our own, which they refer to as 'English.' We still have some problems with their idiomatic speech however, but nothing that is insurmountable."

"Is it a secure frequency, Lieutenant?"

"No, Admiral, no frequency is secure in and of itself…but we have secure communications all the time because the scramblers on the receivers and transmitters are synchronized, if they weren't the two radios would not understand each other. Obviously, we cannot synch our scramblers with theirs"

"Proceed."

"Admiral we will broadcast in clear speech to the United States Groom Lake facility, and we believe that because of the frequency, and the presence of the transmitting DRADIS on either side of their receiver, that our broadcast will be safe from prying ears. We will transmit to the stealth Raptor that in turn will relay the transmission on narrow beam to that frequency. We believe that the Groom Lake personnel monitor that frequency constantly so the message will get to their leadership."

"Thank you Lieutenant, let's get to work then."

At Groom Lake Military Installation, a top-secret military installation in Nevada a message is received. The command center at this unconventional Air Base is usually subdued. The United States Air Force does not deploy front line units from this location; it is used primarily to test the latest aircraft. Groom Lake has other aliases, Area 51, Air Force Flight Test Center (Detachment 3), Dreamland, Paradise Ranch, and a host of others. The base itself has been subject to the imagination of many conspiracy theorists. Today, the conspiracy theories would increase by one if the public knew what was transpiring. The senior officers from the base were present.

Command Center at Groom Lake.  
"The transmissions started six minutes ago, sir. How they got this frequency is unknown sir…technically, it does not exist, much like many other things at Groom Lake. We have the only transceivers in the world that operate at these frequencies; the FCC has not even allotted them yet. Even with that, we operate between two radars that effectively jam anyone who might be curious about what is happening there."

"That doesn't fill me with warm and comforting feelings Colonel." said the General as he walked over to the console. "Do we have the complete message?"

"Yes sir however I recommend listening to it in the secure room, this goes far beyond anything we've experienced at this base since its inception. I have personally made a written copy of the audio message. We have the only copy of the tape here. " The two men and an audio technician removed themselves to "the bubble," the most secure room in one of the most secure military installations anywhere in the world.

The technician began the tape. The transmission contained an eerie audio distortion as if originating from a great distance. "Attention United States Air Force installation at Groom Lake. This is Admiral William Adama; you are receiving this communication over your secure frequency from the Battlestar GALACTICA. This is not a hoax nor should you consider us a threat." began the message. "You have already encountered our aircraft in the airspace between the Chinese mainland and the Korean Peninsula two weeks ago." The two officers looked at each other and nodded, the pieces of a puzzle were being placed on the board. The transmission continued.

"The GALACTICA is a military vessel that is protecting 70 odd civilian ships seeking sanctuary currently in orbit on the far side of your moon, out of detection range of your planet. In order to verify the authenticity of this transmission, and our claims, I will provide you with coordinates for you to observe through one of your secure land based telescopes. At 2200 hours Pacific Time zone, two days from now time, you will be able to view the GALACTICA in Earth orbit. It has been verified that the United States of America is the premiere military power and government on the planet, and we propose a meeting at a location of your choosing between the President of our former colonies, and your own."

The Colonel's face went ashen. "Did he say they were in orbit around the far side of the moon? This is a joke, General!"

"How do you propose the hacked a frequency that isn't supposed to exits Colonel? Not only are they transmitting on our frequency, they have just commented on that incident over China 2 weeks ago, something that has not been released to the public."

The General gestured the technician to continue the transmission. "As a military commander myself, I appreciate the fact that this may be above your authority and you will have to communicate with your civilian leadership in this matter. After verifying our presence in your orbit, you can communicate your intentions via this same frequency. We look forward to meeting with you in hopefully a secure location, and wish our existence to remain secret from the general population for the time being. We have actively sought your planet for almost two years with the belief that our two groups of people are of the same race that split apart over four millennia ago. I look forward to hearing from you at the appropriate time."

"Colonel, get me Jack Crossen over at NASA on a secure line. I have no intention of going to the President with this until I see an orbiting spaceship." said the General, who couldn't believe he was actually saying this.

Two days later in a secure room at NASA's Dryden Flight Research Center, Edwards Air Force Base in CA, the General from Groom Lake and Jack Crossen the Director of NASA met in secrecy. "Jack I've explained everything I know to you, and I'm sure you understand my need for verification before going to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue with this. If this is a hoax, it could be a career ender, if not than we're looking at the first signs of life outside of that on this planet." said the General grimly.

"Peter, you and I have known each other a very long time." began Crossen. "Just by bringing me into the loop at this stage will frost enough cookies in the spook department. I have direct control of this base's observatory, and there will only be two people in the room looking out the scope…you and I. If this turns out not to be a hoax, than NASA will eventually be involved with this. I just hope we are the only two people on Earth looking at those coordinates when the time comes."

"Are you ready, Jack?"

"I am. You have not been logged into the visitor's entry, and being in civilian clothes should raise no suspicions providing you don't come across someone you know here at Edward's."

"Can't be helped right now, let's go!" The two walked out of the room and took a gold cart the quarter mile distance to the observatory. Two security police officers stood watch outside the entrance, but out of the main view from passersby as to not attract attention. The two men walked through the door, and secured it. Walking into the observatory chambers, the overhead lights dimmed and soon replaced by a soft red lighting. The night sky was beautiful, but the two men were not there to stargaze. The observatory was at the far end of the base, and lighting was not an issue.

2145 hours. 15 minutes to Showtime.  
The telescope was programmed with coordinates provided by the alleged spacemen hiding behind the moon. The General felt slightly foolish, but he was confronted with information that nobody should have had access to. Looking through the lenses, a fantastic view of the stars filled the eyepiece.

Aboard the GALACTICA, Adama prepared to make his ship's presence known. A short hyper light jump was planned. To avoid being detected cruising out from the far side of the moon by independent observatories or privately owned backyard telescopes aimed at the moon; he opted to "jump" to the selected coordinates. If nothing else, it would provide quite the show for the Air Force.

"30 seconds to jump, Admiral." reported Gaeta.

"Excellent! Time to announce our arrival, Mr. Gaeta initiate jump." ordered Adama.

At 2200 hours, a brilliant flash lit up the sky. An immense space ship appeared out of nowhere. The images captured by the telescope were downloaded immediately. The two men just stood there in silence. Thirty seconds later the ship disappeared.

"Jack, I need the original recordings. I have to get to Washington immediately and advise the President. You don't need me to tell you how secret this is!" Within an hour, the four star General from Groom Lake was en route to Washington, DC aboard an Air Force Gulf Stream IV. The plane would be given priority landing at Andrews Air Force Base, and Marine 1, the Sikorsky VH-3D helicopter normally reserved for the President of The United States would be waiting on the tarmac for immediate liftoff upon his arrival.

CHAPTER 7

Aboard Air Force 1 now heading for Nevada, the President, his National Security Advisor, Joint Chief of Staff and the four-star General in command at Groom Lake sat in the President's private office.

"In order to avoid any speculation by the media, we've released information that I will be meeting with the Governor of NV in Las Vegas 90 miles from Groom Lake to discuss the issues regarding hazardous waste allegedly being produced by projects at Groom Lake." The press corps will be contained in a part of the base far from the meeting point." said the President.

"Groom Lake or Area 51 as its better known is the most secure military installation in the world, Mr. President." began the National Security Advisor. "There are no possibilities for aerial surveillance, or other intrusions. We will inform the press corps that you have retired for the evening, and we will then proceed to the meeting place via helicopter. It will take place at the installation that once housed the F-117 Nighthawk program back in the '70's. We expect the Defense Secretary to meet us on location."

"What exactly are we expecting, General?" asked the President.

"A total of five aircraft sir! Four escort aircraft of the fighter variety, and some sort of shuttle that will contain the delegation. They advise us that there will be a two man armed security detachment assigned to the delegation. We will have close to a dozen armed secret service agents already there, as well as a dozen heavily armed Security Police posted on the airfield. Your own security detail will be with you at all times."

"Will that come across as overkill?" Asked the commander in chief.

"Sir we have no idea what to expect. There is no way they could have faked what I saw with my own eyes, they accessed a frequency that does not exist in any FCC inventories, and admitted to being the unidentified aircraft involved in that China episode not long ago. My gut tells me this is the real deal, they aren't shouting their presence from the rooftops, and as a matter of fact they have gone to great lengths to maintain their secrecy."

"Alright, we are facing a historic moment in our history, one that may change the course of life on Earth as we know it." The plane carrying the Leader of the free world descended quietly into Nevada and landed at the controversial air base. It would be a long night.

Raptor 1 gently lifted off the deck and proceeded out the port flight pod of the GALACTICA. Her Viper escort formed up on both sides of her in the form a "V."  
Apollo keyed up his comline "All wings, once we have entered the atmosphere we will be modifying our formation to a defensive perimeter around the Raptor. Anything goes down and the Raptor will bug out, we fly protection and the alert Vipers will be launched."

"Do you really think Earth has anything to throw at us that we wouldn't make short work of, Major?" laughed Falcon dismissively.

"Can the chatter, Falcon…we've been given our assignment. Let's just do our jobs."

Laura Roslin sat in the rear of the cabin. The flight suit was rather large for her, and the clothes she would wear for this historic meeting sat folded neatly on her lap. A funny thought flashed through her head, she now would be able to get a change of clothes after two years of wearing the same 4-5 different outfits. She shook her head and laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought in the face of such a momentous occasion.

What would she say? She had planned for such a moment on too many nights lying wide-awake in bed. Less than 50,000 humans were all that remained of the human race spread across twelve colonies. Now they found the mythical planet Earth that was home to the lost 13th tribe of Kobol where humans numbered over 6.7 billion. Would we be welcome or feared? How would we adapt to a technology slightly primitive in comparison? How fast could we bring Earth technology on par with Colonial technology in the event of Cylon discovery? So many questions; she would be meeting with the President of the most technological, democratic and powerful country on the planet, but what of the other governments?

Aboard the GALACTICA Lensherr sat with D'Anna in the officer's quarters. They were alone, and he held her hands in his. "We finally reach Earth, something that might not have happened if not for your efforts, and you and I are stuck aboard this tin can in orbit around their moon. Even the view sucks!" Complained Lensherr.

D'Anna knew how to make Lensherr smile, she squeezed his hands, looking deeply into his eyes and said plainly "well you can take the Cylon out of the cellblock, but you can't take her to Earth!"

"What? That makes no Fraking sense!" laughed Lensherr.

"Exactly!" replied the pregnant Cylon.

Their privacy was shattered at the opening of the hatch. In walked Admiral Adama. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Captain?" asked the Admiral clearly not seeking a reply. He sat down next to D'Anna.

"And how is our resident Cylon feeling today?"

"I've had better days Admiral." said D'Anna smiling. Lensherr looked perplexed at the exchange.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry for keeping you aboard, Captain. Much for the same reasons I myself am not going down to the surface yet." said Adama. "I won't risk being planet side in the event of a Cylon appearance though I am sure that Tigh would be capable of handling that situation. I want my best pilots on board in the event something goes down." He turned to D'Anna.

"Explaining you will be interesting. You are part of the instrument of our near destruction, yet here you are…a member of our fleet bearing a child."

"Who says we need to explain D'Anna at all, Admiral?" asked Lensherr.

"Her identity is known throughout the fleet, word will get out eventually. If we are to settle upon Earth, we may have to confront the possibility that she may draw unwanted scrutiny."

"Admiral, when things settle down, would you do us the honor of marrying us?" asked D'Anna much to both men's surprise. "I bear his child; I have thrown my lot in with your own. There is the very real possibility that my series has been boxed, and that I am the lone survivor. It looks like I have more in common with you humans than previously thought." Adama smiled, and for the first time since D'Anna's arrival extended his hand to her.

"I would be honored, when that time comes," replied the Admiral.

Dennis "Sky" Walker had just finished his shift. He was one of the newer Viper pilots assigned to Silver Spar squadron. Not a flashy or rambunctious fighter jock, but a serious young man whose flying and limited combat experience bordered on methodical. He did not care too much for the cockier pilots who prided themselves on flying by the seat of their pants. His call sign was Prometheus.

He strolled into the officer's rec and ordered a beer. Glancing around the room he spotted his squadron leader Hephaestus and fellow Spar Aslan. He pulled up a chair next to them. "Evening skipper, Aslan!

"Finally off CAP, Dennis?"

"Yes, too wired to sleep and thought I'd grab a beer and maybe a pyramid game. Looks like I'll have to settle for the beer." replied Walker.

"Well you may want to grab some rack time, even though you aren't on alert status, you never know what's going to happen." said Hephaestus.

"Yeah, the old man may mobilize all the squadrons for a Fraking ceremonial flyover!" laughed Aslan. The three continued in their conversation, and more laughter followed as the three pilots wound down their night.

Groom Lake; the former F-117 Nighthawk testing facilities  
The President of the United States of America, his security detail and his entourage waited patiently outside the entrance of the large facility that sat at the edge of the inactive runway.

An Air Force Colonel received a message over his Blue tooth wireless radio attached to his ear. "Mr. President we're tracking five inbound aircraft entering the atmosphere along the agreed upon route. Their ETA is 15 minutes."

"Thank you Colonel. I trust the honor guard is prepared?" The President had insisted over the gentle objections of his Joint Chief to have a twelve man honor guard detailed for the occasion. American and flags from the armed forces were positioned along the walkway from the runway to the building's entrance. The men and women assigned to this base understood secrecy, while this would most likely be the biggest event in history, they would remain true to their duty and remain silent.

Landing lights beneath the nose of the first two vipers activated illuminating the runway that was lit only with red bulbs marking the edges of the runway. They touched down effortlessly, and the strange craft seen previously in digital photos taken by the F-22 wing cams rolled to a stop before them. These planes were not black; they were white with red trim, obviously a fresh paint job for the occasion courtesy of Admiral Adama. The Raptor was next to land; it came down vertically and set down 100 yards from their escorts whose cockpits were now rising. The final two Vipers landed and came to a stop behind the Raptor. The four Viper pilots, clad in leather with side arms at their waist walked over to the Raptor hatch and stood at attention.

Inside the Raptor, with the exception of the two Marines and Lt. Nintius, the occupants changed out of their flight suits and into the attire, they brought along with them. Colonel Tigh was resplendent in his dress grays, and the three civilians were dressed in the best clothes they had in their possession. The President nodded to the Marine who opened the hatch. A cool breeze filled the cabin, something none of them had experienced since New Caprica. Colonel Tigh stepped out first, followed by the remainder of the party with the President bringing up the rear. Tigh returned the salute to Major Adama who stood at the bottom of the ramp leading off the Raptor.

The Viper pilots flanked their party as they walked towards the Earth delegation. Tigh eyed the honor guard and was highly impressed. He nodded to them, unsure of what Earth military custom was. The two parties stopped at a distance of six feet from each other. The base General stepped forward and snapped out a crisp salute to Tigh who quickly returned it, happy to see that both militaries shared at least one custom.

"I'm General Peter McAllister, commanding officer at Groom Lake; United States Air force. Welcome to Earth…I'd like to present the President of the United States of America…Connor McGregor." McAllister sidestepped in precise military fashion allowing the President to step forward with hand extended. Tigh took it, expecting that a civilian president was not saluted on Earth, the same as with the Colonies.

"Mr. President I'm Colonel Tigh, executive officer of the Battlestar GALACTICA. It is my honor to present the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol Laura Roslin." Tigh stepped aside, and the two Presidents clasped hands.

"Welcome to Earth Madam President!" said McGregor smiling. "This is a momentous occasion."

Laura smiled and looked directly into McGregor's blue eyes. "Mr. President the honor is ours, we have searched for Earth for almost two years now in the hope of being granted sanctuary. I cannot express to you the depths of my joy at this moment." The two leaders proceeded to introduce members of their entourage and finally moved indoors to a carefully prepared room. A long oaken conference table sat in the middle of the room with high backed chairs surrounding it. American flags tastefully adorned the walls, and a table of fresh fruit, vegetables and finger foods was close by. Glasses of water were at each seat.

The two Colonial Marines stood at attention behind Roslin who now started to feel uncomfortable at their proximity. These Marines stood at over six and a half feet tall, and were dressed in combat fatigues with rifles slung across their chest. President McGregor's civilian attired security detail blended into the background. There was no doubt that they too were heavily armed, with more security waiting behind the various doors in the event something happened. Laura turned to Tigh who understood her concerns. He instructed them to stand at ease near the food table. They removed their helmets and placed their rifles in a less conspicuous location.

"Mr. President…the people in this room, and currently in orbit are all that is left of our twelve worlds. We had almost been successfully exterminated as a race by beings known as the Cylons. We have been aggressively pursued across the universe by their warships. We number less than 50,000 men, women and children." President McGregor listened intently to the attractive young woman from space.

"In full disclosure I must admit that we created the Cylons long ago. They became self-aware, and adapted. The Cylon War began as humanity's creation, the Cylons, turned on their 'parents.' Their rebellious acts caused the deaths of millions." said Roslin sadly.

"Where are these Cylons now?" asked McGregor, the impact of Roslin's admission now suddenly dawning on him.

"They have been led on a false trail through a very elaborate plan. They are hundreds, perhaps thousands of light years from this star system. We would not have led them here I assure you." McGregor looked confused.

"Madam President you'll have to excuse me but this is all confusing. You say you've been on the run for two years, yet have traveled across entire star systems?"

Roslin nodded to Tigh who answered for her. "Mr. President, our technology is far ahead of Earth's current technology. Our propulsion allows us to "jump" vast distances in space in the blink of an eye."

"We will have ample opportunity to explain at greater length and detail about our exodus from the Cylons. We believe the inhabitants of Earth are the long lost 13th tribe of the planet Kobol…our long lost brothers and sisters. Our journey has been long and punishing; we fervently wish to make Earth our home."

"You have to realize that your existence will create some serious confusion amongst various religious groups that deeply believe that life began here on Earth." said McGregor. "I always thought it was the height of arrogance to believe that only we on Earth could be the only intelligent life forms in this immense universe."

The members of the Colonial delegation had remained silent allowing the two leaders to converse. Minister Malek from Libra spoke up. "Mr. President, if you are indeed the descendents of the 13th tribe than reunification is without question. It would be our responsibility to advance your technology to a degree that you could defend yourselves from a future Cylon attack."

Roslin shot Malek a stern glance. She was not pleased that Malek had been chosen to be part of the delegation. He was a dangerous man, full of ambition. How a self-centered, egotistical man such as him could be voted onto the quorum in such overwhelming numbers always left Roslin wondering. This was not the time, this was the first of many meetings to come, and he was jumping the gun, putting too much on the table.

"Please excuse my minister, Mr. President, he gets ahead of himself," explained Roslin, clearly leaving no ambiguity as to who would be holding discussions on behalf of the Colonies. Malek was clearly angered, but knew his place, for the moment. He did not like Laura Roslin; he thought her weak. After escaping New Caprica, he had envisioned running for President himself. His power base not yet established he bides his time.

"Your Battlestar, can it defend Earth against these Cylons?" asked the Joint Chief who until now sat quietly. Roslin gestured to Tigh who responded.

"General, the GALACTICA is the last surviving Colonial Battlestar. It is a warship capable of nuclear and conventional warfare. The fighter craft she houses are lethal. However, she is only one Battlestar. If the Cylons discover Earth, they will come en-masse. I have discussed this possibility with Admiral Adama and the President. One of our highest priorities is to share our technology with you, and utilize Earth's vast resources and industrial might to turn out space capable fighter craft, and resupply GALACTICA's weapons stores."

"Gentlemen I realize we're starting to get ahead of ourselves, but I think I can safely say that it would be better off if our existence remained secret for the time being, until we can work out how we will go about revealing ourselves to Earth's population." said Roslin.

"I fully agree Madam President. This has to be handled very delicately." said McGregor.

"Mr. President, could I interest you in a trip to a Colonial Battlestar?" asked Roslin smiling.

"The possibility of me leaving the White House is difficult enough to do clandestinely, I can imagine the difficulty of me leaving for space!" laughed the President. "It's obvious we have much to discuss Madam President, and if you have no objections to some of my civilian and military advisors taking my place I think we can lay some decent ground work for this venture."

"It is agreed then Mr. President!"

"This meeting is the first of many, and there are far too many issues to sort through, issues we haven't even thought of yet that will eventually come to light. I am the President of the most powerful country on the planet, but I am not the only world leader. The United Nations will without doubt be brought into our discussions, but only after you have determined to reveal yourselves to the world," said McGregor.

The meeting at officially ended, and both groups mingled over pastries and coffee. The Colonials were served the freshest coffee and foods they have had in a very long time. One of American officers had obviously taken an interest in Lieutenant Thrace; he had engaged her in conversation when he discovered that she too was a fighter pilot, though his time in the cockpit was long past.

"Lieutenant I understand you are the assistant squadron leader for your air wing." said Colonel Hoffman, more statement than question.

"That is correct, Colonel. I see by your wings that you too are a pilot." replied Starbuck.

"I used to fly the F-16 Fighting Falcon in my younger days, now I fly a desk at Groom Lake." he joked. His eyes locked on the attractive young fighter pilot from space. He refilled her coffee and they sat down in two of the high backed chairs.

"You look far too young to be a paper-pusher, Colonel. I'm sure you still grip a mean stick." said Kara flirtatiously. She noted that the middle-aged Colonel stole approving glances at her tight leather flight suit. The four Viper pilots maintained their flight suit in the event of an immediate lift off.

"I would be extremely interested in checking out one of your fighters, Lieutenant." Tigh had caught this exchange and stepped into the conversation.

"Colonel, we would be more than happy to familiarize you with our Vipers, as I'm sure our pilots are extremely interested in learning about your own fighters, especially your Raptors. Did you know that the ship we flew down on is called a Raptor?"

"I didn't know that, sir. You are correct though, I have no doubt that our pilots and yours will soon be inseparable in checking out the other's birds. Replied Hoffman.

"But that will have to wait for another time, Colonel." said General McAllister with the Joint Chief at his side. "There will be a group traveling to their Battlestar very soon, and if you're lucky you may be one of them."

Starbuck had found herself hoping so, she had found Hoffman very attractive, and he obviously felt the same about her. This was far too much to digest for Hoffman. He was in the company of extra terrestrial life, with the possibility of actually traveling to their space ship that had sounded like an immense Aircraft Carrier in space. The conversations continued for a few more hours. It was now 0300 hours, and the two Presidents bade each other a good night. A secure communications frequency was established between Groom Lake and the GALACTICA. The Colonial delegation returned to the GALACTICA. A heavy agenda sat before both Presidents.

CHAPTER 8

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

President Roslin and Tigh have returned reporting excellent progress with Earth's delegation on their first of hopefully many meetings. There is so much to wade through, and I cannot keep our proximity to Earth a secret for much longer. Word is bound to get out from a source I personally believe will turn out to be the minister from Libra; Jonas Malek. I believe the man has an agenda of his own, one that will eventually conflict with that of the fleet's.

The next meeting will take place aboard the GALACTICA. We will dispatch two Raptors to bring military officers and civilian advisors from the President's office up from the planet under cover of darkness. We have located every surveillance **satellite not controlled by the United States and will be able to avoid their detection effortlessly.**

President Roslin has acquired a large food and medical shipment generously offered by President McGregor. Four Raptors will be able to make the delivery over six round trips. This will be an incredible morale booster amongst the fleet for they have not had fresh foodstuffs or medicine in abundance in a long time. I marvel at their strength and willpower in the face of rationing of every kind since our escape from the Colonies. I for one look forward to some of the Earth Coffee that Tigh raved about upon his arrival. Damn his honesty for not 'acquiring' a container prior to his departure.

We will have to determine how much technology to share with the United States. There are other nations upon the planet, not all of them as democratic as the United States of America. I am of the opinion that we are brothers to the entire planet, regardless of religion or government. If we are to make Earth our home (and that in itself comes with its own set of challenges), than we have to embrace all nations and elevate all technologies, not only for their benefit, but also for their protection in the event the Cylons finally discover Earth.

I have decided to introduce our resident Cylon to our Earth guests. If they are to understand our history with the Cylons, and brace for their eventual arrival than they might as well know who and what they can expect. Regarding D'Anna Biers, I now end this log to fulfill a promise made.

Matthew Lensherr stood smartly in his dress gray uniform, rope braid over the left shoulder, and medals in their proper place. Beside him stood the woman he loved, and mother of his unborn child. The ceremony took place in the port-landing bay, and meant to be a small and quiet affair. Members of the Silver Spar squadron had other ideas. Every pilot not on CAP was present, as where most crew members not on duty.

Lensherr was well liked, even if his betrothed was not. Many still considered her the enemy, but were present out of respect for their friend and fellow crew member. Admiral Adama, also in dress grays stood at the podium before them.

"Since our escape from the Colonies and the Cylon tyranny we have had few moments of happiness or reasons for celebration. Today I have the distinct pleasure and honor of officiating at the wedding of Captain Matthew Lensherr and D'Anna Biers. As a Colonial flag officer and Commander of the Battlestar GALACTICA, I bring forth these two in the eyes of their peers, and before the Lords of Kobol in the lock of matrimony. May the child they will soon bring into this world be another step in human and Cylon relations for peace and prosperity. May the bond these two form be a beacon for our two races. If there are no objections, I will now pronounce you man and wife!" said Adama.

Lensherr smiled and took D'Anna in his arms and kissed her deeply. Congratulatory shouts of joy rang out through the throng of pilots. Lensherr was one of their own, and regardless of how they felt about his Cylon bride, they would support him. Not everyone was pleased though, Minister Malek despised the Cylons, and raged at how Adama sheltered and accepted that monstrosity. Even if she was responsible for the fleet obtaining desperately needed fuel and materials back on the Cylon outpost, her usefulness should have ended with a good flushing out the nearest airlock. This only solidified his position that Roslin was unfit for the presidency; she of all people should have personally flushed that vile thing out the airlock. Now she was brokering the unification between Earth and the Colonies. No, this would not do! He stormed off the deck and returned to his own ship to plan.

Lensherr turned towards his squadron, Aslan, Prometheus, Nightstalker, Photon, Hotdog, Hotdog, Kraken and Sledgehammer, surrounded Lensherr. Of the group, only Mark Sarnex embraced D'Anna. The others acknowledged her, but none moved in to embrace her. She realized that acceptance would take a long time.

Adama shook Lensherr's hand and pulled him aside privately. "Captain, D'Anna is now the wife of a Colonial officer, she WILL be afforded the respect and courtesy due the wife of a Colonial officer. Whatever happens on Earth, D'Anna will now and forever more be a Colonial. Nothing can change that." Lensherr knew the meaning behind the words. D'Anna was now protected.

The Earth delegation boarded Raptor 1 and 2 piloted respectively by Lt. Nina Nintius and Lt. Sharon Valeri. The Raptors departed Groom Lake under cover of darkness, and accelerated to the upper reaches of Earth's atmosphere.

"Well gentlemen, congratulations on being the first visitors from Earth to board the Battlestar GALACTICA." said Nintius over her shoulder. The men, all in properly fitting flight suits and helmets looked out the forward observation window. They were streaking towards the moon at high speed. The Apollo mission of the 1960's took a far greater time to reach her. As Nintius piloted the Raptor to the far side of the Moon, it soon became apparent that they were no longer alone. Dozens of ships filled the area, and one immense vessel dwarfed them all. They were approaching the last surviving Battlestar of the Colonial fleet. GALACTICA loomed majestically before them.

Nintius knew the impact of first impressions, and she was about to give the visitors from Earth their monies worth. She took the raptor on a slow approach towards the bow of the ship, gliding over the top and slowing further over the starboard flight pod. The silence was deafening in the cabin, as the men looked slack-jawed out the window.

"This thing is bigger than two Aircraft Carriers combined." said Hoffman incredulously. "How in the name of God did you ever construct one of these?"

"Actually we built 120 of these. GALACTICA was the oldest Battlestar at 50 years and was one of the original twelve Battlestars built, one representing each colony. She was slated for decommissioning when the Cylons attacked."

Nintius brought the Raptor in for approach on the port-landing bay. She glided in smoothly. Touching down on an elevator, the decking magnetized holding the Raptor in place as she was lowered into the hanger. Aboard Raptor 2, Athena had given her guests a similar tour resulting in the same awestruck responses.

A full Colonial honor guard lined the landing bay. Smartly dressed officers stood before flags of the Colonies and military standards. Admiral Adama stood at attention in full dress regalia. Colonel Tigh was at his side also in dress uniform, with a junior officer in CIC.

As the hatch of the Raptors opened the honor, detail came to attention. Out stepped members of the Earth delegation, awestruck at the immensity of the hanger they were standing in. The civilian and military officers outfitted in GALACTICA issued pressure suits for the flight into space, their change of clothes in carry on bags. General McAllister stopped at Admiral Adama and issued a crisp salute. "Permission to come aboard sir?"

"Permission granted, General. Welcome aboard the Battlestar GALACTICA." came the reply. "Your delegation will be taken to officer's quarters to change out of those flight suits. I hope you enjoyed your trip."

"I never dreamed of being an astronaut, Admiral. This whole experience is the capstone to a thirty year military career." replied McAllister.

Thirty minutes later Admiral Adama played host to his guests from Earth. He gave them a tour of the immense Battlestar, answering their questions and giving a brief history on the Colonial military and its warships. Many questions had been asked about the Cylons, but all were deferred to later when they would be in session. Right now Adama was enjoying a rare pleasure, walking the halls of the mighty GALACTICA, and telling of her gallant history. The gigantic warship, far bigger than anything ever built or imagined in any of Earth's militaries, in particular captivated the delegation's military officers. Two hours later the parties had adjourned to the pilot's ready room, the only place large enough to accommodate the delegation. Space aboard the Battlestar, like every other ship in the fleet was at a premium. A massive conference room had long been converted into enlisted quarters.

Lensherr and his bride had been eating their lunch in the mess hall. They were enjoying a very rare dinner of fresh meat and vegetables that had originated on Earth. Fresh foods had been extremely scarce since New Caprica. Two of Silver Spar's younger pilots, Lieutenants Neil West and Dennis Walker soon joined them.

"Mind if we crash your party, skipper?" asked Walker not waiting for a reply as he placed his tray down on the metallic table.

D'Anna had been the first to reply. "By all means gentlemen do join us. You are they only brave souls to dare sit next to the good Captain and his Cylon bride." There was no a trace of acrimony in her voice, just resignation that this is how it would be.

"Nobody braver than a Spar, lady!" smiled West stuffing a forkful of steak into his mouth.

"Indeed?" replied D'Anna. "Tell me Matthew…where did you find these young men?" asked D'Anna earnestly. "I could grow to like them!"

"Long story." replied Lensherr.

"I'd like to hear it." said D'Anna obviously not interested in changing the subject.

Lensherr leaned back in his seat closing his eyes. After finishing his meal, he told the story of how Prometheus and Aslan had come under his command.

Two months after the escape from the Colonies, the GALACTICA and her charges had cruised slowly through territories previously unexplored by Colonial spacecraft. Two weeks had passed since their last encounter with the Cylons. In the CIC, Commander Adama was looking over star charts with the navigation officer, the morning's solitude interrupted by a DRADIS contact. Gaeta immediately identified the contact.

"Cylon Basestar just jumped into the quadrant; it's acquired the fleet and is launching fighters!"

"XO sound action stations. Have the fleet prepare to jump to emergency coordinates and launch the alert fighters to hold off those raiders." ordered Adama. Colonel Tigh relayed the orders immediately, it would take the fleet a few minutes to spool up their FTL's and make the jump. The Alert fighters would provide the cover they would need in the meantime.

This soon after the attack on the Colonies and the fleet's escape Adama had mandated that vipers be in their launch tubes and prepped for take off at all times. The pilot's quarters were close by and the call for action stations brought them running to the launch bay. Each pilot scampered up into their cockpit as the powered up their systems.

Silver Spar squadron was on duty this morning, Captain Matthew Lensherr; call sign Hephaestus was the first pilot down the tubes and out into space. Raptor one piloted by Lt. Nina Nintius vectored his Mark II viper christened Nemesis towards the incoming raiders. Along with his assistant squadron leader Nightstalker, he was joined by Hotdog, Photon, Prometheus, Sledgehammer, Hotdog, Lancelot, Bedlam and Aslan, joined him.

"Hephaestus-Raptor one…I have 42 Cylon raiders on an intercept course. The Basestar is hanging back. Distance 120, speed 4.5 and closing rapidly." The colonial vipers were outnumbered four to one with more raiders expected. Blue squadron was immediately launched to augment the alert vipers.

"Commander Adama, ships jumping away." reported Gaeta, his head cocked to the side as he received a message over his headset. "The fueling ship is reporting FTL failure, Commander. Their Captain reports that they are attempting to restart the system, but it will take 10 minutes!"

This was bad news; Adama could not afford to leave the lone fueling ship for the entire fleet. He would have to hold off the raiders and Basestar until they could jump away.

"Helm bring us about, position the GALACTICA between incoming raiders and the fueling ship…execute!" snapped Adama. The mighty Battlestar came up alongside the fueling ship shielding it from the incoming assault. As many as 500 Kinetic energy weapons positioned themselves to provide a solid wall of fire against anything that makes it by intercept fighters.

Hephaestus glanced down at his DRADIS. He had ten vipers ready to engage over forty raiders with at least 14 more vipers from Blue squadron on the ay to assist. Half a dozen vipers were down for repairs, and four were sent ahead aboard the Striker to the emergency jump location to provide protection until GALACTICA arrived. The entire GALACTICA's air wing numbered 34 vipers, but the pilots knew they were more than a match for any Cylon raider, no matter how many thrown against them.

"Hephaestus to all wings broken formation and engage incoming Cylon Raiders. Whatever gets through will have to be dealt with by Blue squadron and then the GALACTICA's engagement zone. The Basestar is still hanging back, but I'm expecting it to change at any moment. Conserve your ammo and take only sure shoots!" All wings had confirmed orders and went weapons free. "Raptor 1 we'll take it from here!"

Betty had used her maneuvering thrusters to pull far back from the impending field of battle. The Raptor kicked in its afterburners and headed back for GALACTICA. The first Cylon raider came into view, and a shield covering the cockpit had slid open, a red light painted Hephaestus' Mark II viper harmlessly. "They are still attempting to disable our computers, all systems still active." said Lensherr as he opened fire on the raider. Taking a direct hit, it explodes on contact.

The pilots of Silver Spar squadron waded into the wall of Cylon raiders unchallenged. Unbeknown to them that the raiders had been instructed to ignore them and proceed straight for GALACTICA. The raiders flew maniacally, Colonial pilots working feverishly to destroy them.

"They're not engaging us skipper, what gives?" called out Aslan.

"The Raiders are heading for GALACTICA!" Lensherr switched to the scramble frequency between him and the communications officer in CIC. "GALACTICA-Hephaestus, be advised incoming raiders are ignoring us and heading your way."

Apollo had been monitoring the chatter and was 2 minutes out from Silver Spar's location. "Hephaestus this is Apollo, take out what you can and leave the rest to us."

"Message received Apollo!" replied Lensherr.

Prometheus had banked hard left and gave pursuit to a raider; he painted the target with his attack computer and fired a short burst. Another kill, this was almost too easy, something was not right here. He was new to the Colonial fleet, and had been assigned to the aging Battlestar on its last tour of duty before decommissioning. Dennis "Sky" Walker was fresh out of flight school and anxious to be assigned to a Mercury class Battlestar. When the last Mark VII Viper squadron was returning to Caprica, his own viper was held aboard for problems to one of the Voram engines. That engine problem most likely saved his life; a short time later, the entire squadron led by Major Jackson "Ripper" Spencer would be disabled through a Cylon computer virus, and then mercilessly picked off one by one. His Mark VII would be damaged beyond hope of repairs in the weeks that followed. He now flew the inferior and obsolete Mark II, but strangely did not mind. The Mark II was a classic, and he had a soft spot in his heart for the tried and true.

"Prometheus heads up, you've got a raider at four o'clock high!" yelled Aslan over the comline. The raider cut loose with a barrage that barely missed the canopy. The raiders were no longer passive but firing back now.

Tigh had just received word that the first wave bypassed Silver Spar squadron and were now engaging Blue squadron. The Fueling ship had made its repairs and had now started their jump prep. They were still vulnerable for five more minutes. A new DRADIS contact, all hell was about to break out.

Hephaestus did a double take at his DRADIS. The Cylon Basestar had disappeared. "Where the frak did it go? Does anyone have the Basestar on their DRADIS?" said Hephaestus.

"Negative skipper, my DRADIS is clear. Odds are it hauled ass to GALACTICA's location." replied Nightstalker now pulling up on his leader's port wing.

"All wings return to GALACTICA!" ordered Lensherr.

Aboard GALACTICA all hell had indeed broke loose. The massive Cylon Basestar had jumped to within striking distance to the smaller Battlestar. Its remaining compliment of raiders launched and bore down on GALACTICA. A blistering wall of anti-aircraft fire filled the area, raiders dropped quickly as the GALACTICA's engagement field was now fully active.

The Basestar wasted little time in launching its own offensive. Missiles streaked down from the hubs on its central axis. GALACTICA had thrown up a massive amount of flak that intercepted many of the missiles; only one had struck a glancing blow on the Battlestar.

"XO recall our squadrons immediately. Weapons officer, arm all nuclear weapons." Adama knew this could get bad fast and had to end it quickly. "Lt. Gaeta, inform the fueling ship to jump the moment their back online, we can't hold this defensive position long." ordered Adama.

Blue squadron had blown a massive hole in the oncoming Raiders when the recall order came through. "Apollo to all wings we're getting a recall order from GALACTICA, combat landings authorized!"

Two Raiders were in pursuit of a single Mark VII viper. The pilot; Achilles was doing his best to shake them without success. His viper had taken two glancing hits and one direct hit to the port engine. "Krypter, krypter, krypter Achilles declaring an emergency; my port engine has taken a hit forcing me to shut it down, I have two on my six o'clock and I can't shake them."

Falcon and Gambler responded immediately, Blue squadron prided themselves on being a tight knit squadron, far superior to any other squadron aboard GALACTICA, which they all knew was only one other. Gambler came in high on the raider' two o'clock position, he was by far the most aggressive pilot of either squadron; he had the most raider kills to prove it in the time since the assault on the Colonies and their retreat. He let loose a long burst stitching the raider across the top, scattering bits of biomechanical debris throughout the cosmos. "Frak you, sucker!" hissed Gambler.

Falcon was lining the raider up in his sights. The raider weaved back and forth making a targeting lock impossible. This raider was good and he did not have an unlimited amount of ammunition to try to lead him. Major Tony Bastain was relentless and stayed on the raider's six, waiting for it to make a mistake.

By now, GALACTICA had started firing her main guns at the approaching Basestar. Raiders attempted to get through her engagement zone unsuccessfully, but missiles from the Basestar were starting to make it through the deadly flak. "Helm keep adjusting our drift, I want the fueling tanker completely covered!" ordered Adama.

"Commander we have planes coming in, Achilles has declared an emergency and is being escorted in by Apollo and Starbuck. Silver spar is 1 minute out." informed Gaeta.

"Inform the fighters to make haste, we need to get of here," ordered Tigh.

Aslan, Lancelot and Prometheus were the farthest vipers out from GALACTICA when the recall orders came in. They had given chase to a heavy raider and its escort. Their flight path took them far outside of the safe approach to GALACTICA. The Cylon Basestar stood between them. Lancelot, much like Falcon was an aggressive pilot and saw the Basestar as an opportunity for retribution. He poured on the speed and took a direct approach in. Prometheus had pulled up alongside him.

"You have something in mind, Lancelot?" asked Walker.

"We've been recalled, and our track will take us right by that Basestar. While their raiders are busy swarming about GALACTICA's engagement zone I say we inflict a little damage ourselves." Replied Lancelot.

"Well as long as we have to go past the piece of felgercarb we might as well leave our calling cards." chimed in Aslan, the most reckless of the trio. His reputation was fast gaining on the Battlestar, and not in the way that pleased the CAG. All three vipers closed on a tight formation to limit their DRADIS signature. Each pilot hoped that the Cylon Basestar was too preoccupied with GALACTICA to pick him up.

Hephaestus kept a count of the returning Spars on his DRADIS screen while doing his best not to be blown out of the sky. He would be the last to land after his pilots, same for Apollo. Three spars were unaccounted for; he knew who two of them would be before even looking at transponder numbers. Lancelot and Aslan, his problem children. Lancelot was just cocky, but he had been a Viper pilot for years serving on at least three Battlestars. Aslan was recently assigned to Silver Spar squadron after Apollo told him that he did not want the brash young pilot. He did not know Junior Lieutenant Neil West very well, but the kid had guts and motivation, and had the makings of a great Viper pilot. The third missing pilot was a surprise, Junior Lt. Dennis Walker; call sign Prometheus, he was also unaccounted for.

Aboard GALACTICA the Cylon missiles were raining down and striking more hits, they could not withstand much more punishment. Vipers were coming in on combat landings and preparations to retract the pods were underway in order to jump.

"Commander, the fueling tanker signals their FTL's are back online and will jump in 30 seconds." said Gaeta from his station.

"Thank you Lieutenant, how many of our fighters are on board?"

"Almost all of Silver Spar squadron and half of Blue squadron, the Raiders are making them work for their landings."

"Understood…I want the pods retracted the moment the last bird hits the deck and jump immediately! Patch me through to Hephaestus and Apollo." ordered Adama.

"GALACTICA to flight leaders, stand by for GALACTICA actual." came the call over the helmet coms worn by Apollo and Hephaestus. Both flight leaders knew this would be a "move your asses" message.

"GALACTICA actual to flight leaders…how are we doing out there gentlemen?"

Being the senior officer and flight leader, Apollo answered first. "The toasters are making it a bitch to land sir, but we're getting aboard one by one."

"GALACTICA Actual…Hephaestus, I have three birds unaccounted for. My DRADIS gets intermittent signatures, but I can't get a lock on them."

"I'll have GALACTICA's scanners try to pinpoint a location, but you need to get them aboard Captain, we cannot stay here!" warned Adama.

"Hephaestus receives Actual's message." Frak thought Lensherr; these guys are killing me, a raider exploded at his four o'clock position courtesy of Apollo.

"You sleeping over there Hephaestus? Get your kids aboard and let's get the Frak out of here."

The three pilots from Silver Spar were coming in hard and fast on the Basestar, if they had been picked up by the DRADIS it did not show. They encountered no interceptors or fire from the gigantic Basestar.

"Lancelot to Aslan and Prometheus, target the missile launchers on the center axis. If you're as low on ammo as I am then make every shot count and get the Frak out of the area. GALACTICA must be waiting on us." Both pilots acknowledged the message and bore down on their targets. If they could score a hit on a missile before leaving its launcher, they might be able to trigger some serious damage to the Basestar by causing a chain reaction explosion.

"GALACTICA to Hephaestus, we've located three vipers making an apparent straphang run on the Basestar, Actual wants them corralled and aboard immediately." Almost simultaneously, Hephaestus and Apollo did a 180-degree turn and took an indirect course for the Basestar. Each pilot emptied their magazines into separate launchers, Prometheus scored a direct hit on a missile prior to leaving the tube, which triggered a massive explosion. Almost immediately all Raiders reversed course back to the Basestar to defend it.

"Lets get out of here gentlemen and hope we did some damage." said Lancelot as he put the thruster pedal to the floor. The three Vipers peeled off and sped for GALACTICA, the Basestar now filling the air with anti-aircraft fire in their wake.

"That got their attention." yelled Aslan looking over his shoulder. The exploding missile had the desired effect in the Basestar; it triggered at least four more missiles to explode from within causing massive damage along the central axis.

The three Vipers picked up the wall of incoming Raiders and two Colonial Vipers approaching on a safer track. Hephaestus' unhappy voice filled their cockpits. "If you Fraking hotdogs are through perhaps you can get your asses back on board GALACTICA so she can jump out of here."

The two squadron leaders took position front and back of the three vipers, and poured on the speed for GALACTICA. If they were lucky, they would be able to avoid the incoming Raiders.

"Commander last five vipers on approach, they apparently did some serious damage to the Basestar, I'm picking up numerous explosions." reported Gaeta.

"Helm bring us about 90 degrees starboard. Weapons, I want a full spread from the forward batteries brought to bear on the Basestar, target the center axis. Let's see if we can exacerbate the damage done by our rogue vipers." said Adama giving Tigh a slight smile.

The pods had started to retract after the first of the tardy vipers had landed. Aslan took three bounces before coming to a complete stop. He snapped his forward landing gear and put three gouges into the deck. One by one, the remaining vipers safely landed and the landing bay was fully secured. With his hand fully on the jump key, Lt. Felix Gaeta awaited the order to jump away. GALACTICA had come about and was making for the Basestar that now started to fall back.

"Weapons…full spread, execute!" snapped Adama. A slight shudder could be felt as GALACTICA fired her forward batteries with devastating results. Three direct hits were scored on the Cylon Basestar's center axis. It began with a series of explosions, soon a fissure opened vertically on the center axis and a massive explosion sent the upper and lower sections of the once deadly Basestar in separate directions. A round of cheers and applause filled the CIC. A rare victory for a defeated humanity, all thanks to the courage if not lack of authority to attack by three members of Silver Spar squadron.

"Lieutenant Gaeta…. jump!"

Hephaestus could feel the burning gaze of one seriously ticked off deck chief behind him. Chief Tyrol was inspecting his damaged deck plates, Junior Lt Neil West at the position of attention to the left of Hephaestus. Apollo soon joined them.

"This felgercarb has to be straightened out Captain! How many Fraking times is this kid going to Frak up my deck with his half-assed landings? Now I have landing gear to reattach." Tyrol was almost foaming at the mouth, Aslan had rubbed him the wrong way since he came aboard, and this was far from the first time that Tyrol's deck gang would have to hammer out dents from Aslan's heavy landings.

Hephaestus had served in the Colonial service for ten years and suffered through his fair share of ass chewings. He usually made it a point to take the brunt for his pilots, and then dealt with them himself. This time Aslan was present, and would be bearing the brunt right along with him. Apollo spoke up.

"Captain Lensherr, I'm sure you have no objections to a temporary duty assignment for Lt. West to the deck gang. Chief Tyrol and I have decided to give our hotshot pilot here a taste of what it is like for the 'knuckle draggers' to have to bust their asses to fix the decking after an avoidable heavy landing. Combat landings do not translate into crash landings, Lieutenant!" said the CAG now looking directly at Aslan.

"No objections sir." replied Lensherr.

Tyrol jerked a thumb in Aslan's direction. "Get out of that duty uniform and don some coveralls Lieutenant, you'll be a 'knuckle dragger' for the next 10 hours or so." Aslan headed for the deck gang's locker room to change. Tyrol turned back to Hephaestus and laughed. "How is it you get assigned these wannabee hotshots, Matt?"

"Just lucky I guess." replied Lensherr smiling. "Look I have no problem with detailing him over to you guys, he keeps coming in heavy and there has to be a price for it, but you got to admit the kid has balls. When was the last time you saw three Mark II Vipers do a straphang run on a Cylon Basestar?"

"I agree Matt, but don't let these guys know it…their egos are big enough already. Lancelot comes as no surprise; his ego writes checks his body cannot cash…only a matter of time before he bites off more than he can chew. Aslan…well you know that story already, but Prometheus …I had that kid pegged for a straight shooter."

"I think all three of them were caught up in a situation that resulted in them following their senior officer. Lancelot made the call to straph, and they followed. Hey, the result was a destroyed Basestar, and a tremendous morale boost for the fleet. We need to take these victories where we can." said Lensherr.

"You need to take that kid under your wing Hephaestus. We are on limited supplies and replacement parts. Gods only know when we'll reach Earth, but I do know that the Cylons are going to come after us with everything they've got, and I can't afford to have any of my planes down, understood?" asked Apollo.

"Aye aye sir, I'll keep him under control. Off the record, I think this kid will make an excellent Viper pilot. I see a bright future for him…as bright as we can possibly make it running for our lives with all that's left of humanity."

Hephaestus retired to the officer's rec room to grab a beer; he was tired but could not bring himself to hit the rack for sleep yet. Prometheus and Lancelot were finishing their drinks at a table with Nina Nintius and Jenna St. Lynn, another Spar; call sign Kraken.

He pulled up a seat between Kraken who was smoking a cigar, and Nintius who held a half empty mug of Caprican Ale. Both women were off duty, and wore fatigue pants and thin cotton tank tops that barely contained their ample assets.

"Good afternoon Matthew!" purred Nintius. "What brings you to this den of iniquity?'

"Hot female pilots rumored to be buying us poor males endless rounds of beer." replied Lensherr.

"Frak that rumor mill." laughed Kraken "I think Betty and I need to be bought drinks by the endless perverts that inhabit this hell hole." said Kraken looking at the leering Lancelot as she pulled her shirt collar higher up over firm breasts.

"No need to adjust yourself on my account, lass." shot back Lancelot continuing to admire Kraken's revealing attire.

Hephaestus ignored the exchange and turned towards Prometheus. "Dennis that was some decent shooting, excellent idea to turn on your wing camera. You caught that missile before it cleared its launch tube."

"Thank you sir, to be honest I don't even recall activating the camera." replied Walker.

"Oh handsome and modest…what an adorable combination." said Nina leveling her eyes on Prometheus.

"Well your well placed shots gave GALACTICA an opportunity to extract a little revenge. That is one less Basestar they'll be using to harass us." said Lensherr. "I just thought I'd let you know that the efforts of you three, while unauthorized, are appreciated and will be remembered."

"Is the old man gonna give us a promotion, skipper?" laughed Lancelot.

"Well at the very least it's worth a commendation and another round." said Lensherr as he signaled another round to be brought to the table.

Lancelot just would not give up on Kraken; she was a very attractive woman with an incredibly fit body. She could drink, smoke and play pyramid with the best of the men, and her skill on the stick of a Raptor earned her respect from her peers. With more beers in him than he probably should he decided to push a little further.

"Come on darling, I know just the place for you and I to get some alone time." He whispered in her ear, the stench of stale Caprican ale assaulting her nostrils. He was in close and ran his fingers across the low collar of her tank top and across the top of her breasts. A smile spread across her face, which in turn made Lancelot smile. He had long wanted to get in her flight suit from the moment she was assigned to GALACTICA.

"You want me up close and personal, stud?" she purred softly looking deep into his eyes.

"You're Fraking right I do!" replied the drunken Lancelot. Kraken smiled again and with a quick move downwards lifted the leg of Lancelot's chair straight out and up sending him sprawling to the floor, stunning him momentarily. Getting up she grabbed a hand-held Carbon Dioxide extinguisher off a wall mount and shoved the nozzle down the front of his pants and squeezed the trigger. Lancelot sobered up quickly as the frozen blast struck him deep into his manhood. Kraken reached out with her free hand and hoisted the stunned pilot to his feet by his shirt collar, kissing him full on the lips devoid of any passion, like marble scraping against steel.

"I like a man with balls Lance…just not frozen ones!" she dropped him to the floor as he clutched his groin and walked out triumphantly.

Nintius, Lensherr and Walker just exchanged silent glances. Nintius finally burst out laughing. "I love that girl, she has pure attitude." Lensherr helped a dazed and uncomfortable Lancelot to his feet.

"Lords of fraking Kobol what goes through your mind?" exclaimed Lensherr.

"That is one fiery woman, skipper. Well worth the effort!" Lensherr just shook his head and left for his quarters. The short walk to the stateroom he shared with three other officers was what he called home. Normally a squadron leader would have his own stateroom aboard a Battlestar, but times had changed, privacy was not an option, and every available space utilized at its maximum potential. Stripping down to his shorts and tank top, Lensherr stretched out on his rack and soon was fast asleep.

CHAPTER 9

The wireless squawked in the mess hall. Lensherr was directed to contact Colonel Tigh in CIC. Excusing himself from the table he picked up the wall mounted phone and pushed the appropriate number to reach CIC.

"This is Lensherr."

"Captain, Admiral Adama is requesting your presence in the pilot's ready room, and would like for you to bring your wife." stated the XO. Lensherr was expecting this, but it did not make him feel any more relaxed. He was looking forward to meeting the military delegation from Earth, but worried about their reaction to D'Anna.

"Understood, I'm on my way!"  
Lensherr and a very pregnant D'Anna entered the ready room. She had lost none of her beauty, and Lensherr thought she looked even more radiant. The Earth men stood as she entered, and waited for her to take her seat before they returned to theirs.

"Gentlemen this is Captain Matthew Lensherr, call sign Hephaestus. He is strike leader for Silver Spar squadron. This young woman is his wife D'Anna Biers…she is also a Cylon." said Adama after a pause. The men in the room exchanged glances, they had spent the last six hours in session with the Admiral, and one of the topics covered were the human model Cylons that were instrumental in the successful surprise attack on the Colonies. General McAllister was the first to speak.

"I don't understand Admiral, you say she is a Cylon, but she's the wife of one of your officers and pregnant?"

"That is correct General; over 7 months ago we had encountered a remote Cylon outpost with one function only; to launch a massive assault on the GALACTICA with nuclear-equipped heavy raiders that would ram this ship repeatedly until it was destroyed. There were several such outposts spread throughout possible escape routes, all depending on the GALACTICA to pass within range of one. She had originally infiltrated the Fleet under the alias "D'Anna Biers" and posing as a reporter for the Fleet News Service. Out of the twelve models of humanoid Cylons, two have proven problematic for the Cylon command; D'Anna's model and the Sharon Valeri model that I discussed earlier. Both models have resisted their programming to destroy humans. Like Valeri, D'Anna had rebelled, fallen in love with an officer and became impregnated. The only difference is that D'Anna's model has been 'boxed,' another term I explained earlier. I wanted you gentlemen to see first hand what we are escaping from, and what you may very well encounter sometime in the future."

D'Anna got to her feet, this time none of the men moved to get up. Her green eyes blazed like emeralds. "Gentlemen, I can just imagine what you're thinking right now, the Admiral is correct, I am a Cylon! All twelve models of Cylons were programmed to blend in with the human population seamlessly. We bleed when cut, bruise when hit and unless you run extremely complex biological testing you will find that we are almost completely indistinguishable from humans. When we die by natural or unnatural causes, our consciousness is downloaded into a new body. In my case if I die, it is final. I have placed my survival in their hands, and the child I carry is the next evolutionary step between human and Cylon. There are many models, and I'd like to believe that there can't only be two of us that believe that the eradication of humanity is wrong."

A Civilian advisor to President McGregor was next to speak. "Admiral Adama has explained that the Cylons are actively searching for Earth, what are their intentions if they find us?"

"Make no mistake gentlemen; there is no 'if' but 'when.' We have succeeded in leaving a trail for whatever Basestar that may have been following the fleet to follow. The route was well planned, and takes them in a completely opposite direction, thousands of light years in the opposite direction. However, in time they will discover the ruse and restart their search. The Cylon intention was to locate Earth and make it their new home." Said D'Anna.

"And what of the human population?" persisted the civilian advisor. D'Anna looked down at the floor a moment and slowly replied.

"If they could not be subjugated, they would be exterminated."

The silence in the room was palpable, and Adama soon spoke up. "Gentlemen, our two peoples have been reunited after 4,000 years. Less than 50,000 members of the twelve tribes of Kobol remain alive to rebuild the human race. If we are to make our home on Earth, than we will be responsible for protecting her. Your technology, while impressive is behind our own, and if we are to protect Earth than she must be brought up to a technology that at least gives her a fighting chance against the Cylons. This isn't a quick fix, and cannot be accomplished in a matter of weeks, months or even years; it will take time and cooperation amongst all of your nations…friendly or otherwise."

"I've asked Captain Lensherr to this session because it is my intention to start cross-training my pilots and yours. He along with Major Adama would like to start training some of your pilots in flying fighter craft through the airlessness of space. For us, atmospheric flying comes just as natural as flying in space, but that is not the case with your pilots. Captain." Lensherr walked up to the podium.

"Gentlemen, we've studied your Air and Sea based fighters for quite some time and their skill is excellent, I'm sure there are many pilots aboard GALACTICA…myself included that would love to fly competition with you. However flying in space takes intense training. Under normal conditions, flight school for a Colonial pilot was extensive and took almost a full year. After our escape from the Colonies, we lost countless pilots and had to train new ones at an expedited rate. The United States boasts the best trained atmospheric pilots on the planet so that part should be easy. Learning to fly a viper through space will be the challenge."

"We will be providing complete schematics for the Mark II and Mark VII Vipers in order to have simulators created. Production facilities will have to be retooled to produce Vipers." Said Adama.

"Admiral, short range interceptors will not be enough to protect us from a Cylon attack. What are your intentions for building larger warships?" asked Hoffman.

"By that I assume you are referring to building a Battlestar." Replied Adama.

"That would be correct, sir."

Adama adjusted his glasses and walked around the front of the podium to sit on the edge of a table that contained refreshments. "Gentlemen, a full sized Battlestar takes years to build, much like your own Super carriers. The very fact that it would involve technology no one on Earth is familiar with compounds the challenge. The fleet has approximately two dozen people that have worked in Battlestar construction, Earth engineers would have to be given an intense crash course in every aspect of propulsion, metallurgy, weaponry, armament…the list goes on. We would need the best scientific and engineering minds on your world to work together to just produce one Battlestar, and the GALACTICA is an obsolete warship technology-wise. She does not possess a networked computer system due to the threat of Cylons being able to disable the system as they did when they attacked the Colonies. They shut down Battlestars and Vipers as easily as throwing a switch. Any new Battlestar or Viper will not be networked! I would prefer to build Mercury class Battlestars, perhaps at a much smaller scale in order to produce more at an accelerated rate."

"Admiral, I believe I speak on behalf of President McGregor when I assure you that military and civilian production facilities can be directed to halt current production and retool their equipment to put out your Vipers. The Battlestar production is a different story entirely. If you believe that it will take a world effort to produce smaller Battlestars in large numbers to protect us than that will require more than just the President of the United State's say so. Your existence will have to be revealed, and the major powers of the industrial world will have to come together. That is not an easy task I assure you!" stated the Secretary of Defense.

"Gentlemen, we too were once a split society, we warred against each other only to be forced to band together when the Cylons turned on us. The Earth faces the potential threat of extermination; they have no choice but to work together if they are to survive." Said Adama solemnly. The session continued for six more hours, and the delegation was allowed to adjourn and eat dinner in the mess hall before retiring to staterooms made vacant for them by senior officers. Plans were finalized to suspend current production programs for military fighter craft. The biggest challenge now lay ahead. Members of the fleet would have to be told of their arrival at Earth. The people of Earth would have to be told of their alleged long-lost brothers and sisters sitting up in spaceships hiding behind their moon.

Adama hosted an informal meeting with his senior staff and air wing commanders in his private quarters later that night. "Gentlemen the hour is late I know, and I appreciate you all joining me after such a long day. The day's session with the Earth delegation bore some decent fruit, however the United States is not Earth. We are going to have to involve all nations, and that won't be easy due to the usual felgercarb." Lamented the Admiral.

"You mean politics, sir?" laughed Apollo.

"Exactly, this isn't something that can be dismissed lightly. There are potentially major obstacles between the superpowers on Earth. We have to stress, or should I say the President of the Colonies needs to stress the need to put aside differences and come together. Acquiring natural resources to build Vipers in unlimited amounts will not be a problem; the difficulty is in getting their aeronautical engineers brought up to speed on Viper technology, then the actual process of retooling existing construction facilities to start pumping them out."

"Planes you'll have Admiral, but what about pilots?" asked the CAG.

"I know you've been familiarizing yourself with the US fighter planes and tactics, courtesy of General McAllister and Colonel Hoffman. They both have been very generous in providing us with technical manuals, computerized schematics and other items. These are excellent fighters for their level of technology, and the pilots who fly them must be beyond exceptional. I want to start a cross-training program, familiarize yourselves with their most advanced fighter, the F-22 Raptor. Until the simulators are built the bulk of their Viper training will be in the classroom, and some hands on with the Mark II's."

"When do we inform the fleet of our arrival at Earth?" asked Lensherr.

"Today, President Roslin has been working on her speech since we've arrived, I'm sure it has been done for some time now. I am just amazed at how long we were able to keep it secret. Eventually we would have to explain the influx of fresh rations, and our stationary position in orbit around a dead moon that I am sure many have seen through their observation ports. We made it gentlemen…we have safeguarded the remains of the twelve colonies for over two years, suffered many hardships. The bravery and professionalism exhibited by yourselves and the men and women under your command is testament to our success. I humble thank you all, and say the honor is mine to have served with such people." William Adama stood and raised his glass. "To the end of our journey, and a new beginning!"

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

Excellent progress has been made in the sessions between the Government of the United States of America; the most powerful, democratic and advanced of Earth's civilization and us. An agreement has been reached between us and the military of the US to rearm the GALACTICA's nuclear arsenal and small arms ammunition. Our larger conventional ordinance and missiles are slightly different from the kind currently in use in the US military, but have been assured that they can be produced quickly after modifications to their production facilities. If the GALACTICA is going to remain in orbit to safeguard against Cylon attack, she had best be fully armed.

Despite the space-related and propulsion technology between Earth and our fleet, I find Earth to be very similar to the Colonies. I feel confident that they can be brought up to a satisfactory level of advancement in due time. Their land, sea, and air based military is exceptional, but no match for a Cylon armada if they came. Their Baseships could remain in orbit raining down nuclear death upon them, **though I believe if they did come down to the surface they would be given the fight of their computerized lives.**

President Roslin will be addressing the fleet in a few hours, I fully expect the masses to want to go down to the planet, but we will have to wait until the US President makes the announcement at their Assemblage of Nations called the United Nations. The revelation will most likely be met with joy, skepticism, fear and outright panic I am sure. It will be up to the world leaders and the quorum to decide how and when we will begin to colonize Earth. I gladly leave that logistical matter to the politicians.

The senior military officers I have encountered are as professional as any I have encountered in the Colonial armed forces. I believe we have more in common with our brothers and sisters from Earth than differences. Talks of exchange programs between flag officers and eventually lower ranks had been the suggestion of Colonel Hoffman. I find merit in the idea, if we are to make a home on Earth, than the sooner we assimilate the better. Many civilians have been pressed into military service since the destruction of the Colonies, and I am sure they would jump at the opportunity to return to civilian life on Earth. However if we are to maintain a fully staffed Battlestar and future Battlestars than careful retention of key individuals and the recruitment of Earth men are paramount to our safety and theirs.

President Laura Roslin stood behind the podium arranging her speech, behind her the walls adorned with flags representing the twelve colonies. She would be broadcasting to the entire fleet via wireless and video. Her hands slightly trembled as she arranged her cards with the large letters printed upon them. She had picked out the same outfit she had worn down to Earth, it was her least well-worn outfit and she suppressed a smile at the opportunity that she would now have to get a complete new wardrobe.

"One minute to airtime, Madam President." Informed a technician.

She removed her reading glasses, and the camera lights only intensified her emerald green eyes. Ten seconds to airtime, she took a sip of water.

"Citizens of the fleet, good evening." She began. "I have called for air and wireless time this evening to make an announcement that will impact the lives of us all. Our long exodus is at an end, for two years we have been on the run from the Cylons, trying to save the last remnants of a shattered civilization. We have finally found the planet of our long lost brothers and sisters of the thirteenth tribe…we have found Earth!" Across the fleet stunned silence, and finally tumultuous applause filled every hallway, cabin, and populated portion of every ship. Roslin had anticipated this and waited a few moments before continuing. The discovery was made thirteen days ago, and a decision was made to keep that discovery a secret until contact could be made with Earth's government.

Our existence has not been revealed to the populous of Earth yet, but will be shortly. This will not be an easy revelation for them, many do not believe in life forms beyond their own world. We may be welcome in some quarters and feared in others. It will take long and comprehensive planning to implement our colonization of Earth. Where will we live, how will we survive? These are the questions that I have asked myself many times, and I believe our survival will depend upon how well we integrate with our long lost brothers and sisters. While they are not as technologically advanced as we currently are, especially in space flight, they do possess many attributes and beliefs that will guarantee to amaze us, and are quite advanced in their own right." Roslin paused a moment, a smile spread across her lips. "Citizens of the fleet, we have finally arrived and I have the strongest and heartfelt belief that we have finally found our home! Fresh foods, medicines, and clothing have generously been provided for you from the descendents of the 13th tribe and have been arriving daily aboard GALACTICA where it has been dispersed and will continue to be dispersed until the time comes for us to journey to the new world. Thank you for your support over these incredibly hard two years. You are a credit to the human race, and your determination, courage in the face of overwhelming tyranny from the Cylons and unknowns of space will forever be engraved in Colonial…, and I am sure Earth history. Your Ministers have been briefed on what is to be expected as we await news from Earth's government on our plea for sanctuary." Thank you and good night."

CHAPTER 10

Lt. Kara Thrace was waiting in the hallway leading to the port side flight pod just outside the quarters given up to Colonel Hoffman for his brief stay aboard GALACTICA. The door opened up and out he walked in his Colonial-issued flight suit for the return trip to Earth. His Military Dress uniform undoubtedly folded pristine-like in his carry-on bag. She thought he looked very handsome in his dress uniform, and was sorry to see him out of it and returning home. Her marriage to Samuel Anders had been tumultuous, and a mutual separation was agreed upon.

"Good morning Lt. Thrace!" said Hoffman smiling, clearly pleased to see her.

"Please, call me Kara or even Starbuck if you care to, no need to stand on ceremony!"

"Then I'll have to insist you call me Jack, or by my call sign which nobody has used in close to ten years… Hannibal."

"Well Hannibal, where do we go from here? I am not one to mince words but I have to say I am sorry to see you leave. I was hoping you and I could spend some time talking about Earth, and where I come from."

"Kara I would like nothing better, and I've been informed by General McAllister that you and I will be working together on getting a program established to start cross training our pilots. No sense in holding off integrating our forces, especially if the Cylons are the threat you make them out to be."

"Trust me Jack; the Cylons are a very formidable force. I look forward to working with you." She extended her hand, and Hoffman took it firmly. Their eyes met, and both immediately realized that they held the handshake rather long.

"My ride to Earth leaves in twenty minutes Kara, I look forward to seeing you again." Said Hoffman as he lifted up his bag and walked down the hallway towards the launch bay.

United Nations building, New York City.  
President Connor McGregor sat in the ornate high backed chair directly behind the speaker's podium waiting for his introduction. The historic chamber brimming to near capacity for an announcement of rumored Earth-shattering significance. He almost dreaded this speech on one level, fully expecting to be laughed off the stage with what he was about to announce. However he was the President of the United States of America, and when he requested an emergency session of the entire United Nations contingent on a matter that affected the entire world he knew he would command their full attention. His thoughts interrupted by the sound of applause, he looked up just as the Secretary-General turned to him.

McGregor strode to the podium resplendent in dark blue power suit with light blue silk tie. His note carefully placed on the podium, notes that he knew he probably would not need, but kept handy anyway. McGregor was known for his photographic memory. He was quite different from his predecessor even though a member of the same party. He was a true consensus builder who was a combat veteran of the first gulf war twenty years earlier. He despised ideologues, and made no secret of his dislike for spin-doctors that had become all too common in political circles. He wrote all of his own speeches, and was a student of world history. He had a much-respected reputation across the political spectrum, and filled his cabinet with the most qualified regardless of party affiliation. A move he knew would probably make him a one term President. He preferred diplomacy to force, but was fully capable of exercising either. The applause had finally died down and he looked out to the cavernous chamber at all of the representatives of the world body.

"Members of the United Nations, and viewers across the world I thank you for granting me this opportunity to speak with you on such short notice. I assure you that what I am about to tell you holds profound significance for every human being inhabiting our world. As you may know, decades ago a satellite was sent out into space containing a friendship message from Earth to extraterrestrial life. That friendship message was received…and finally answered."

Hushed whispers and heads swirled about the room as McGregor patiently waited a few moments for the news to sink in. "Citizens of the world…there is intelligent life beyond our world, and it has contacted us. This is not my attempt at a bad joke as some of you are most likely thinking, I am very serious. These are not green-skinned aliens with ray guns and tentacles; these are human beings, indistinguishable from you and me. They claim to be directly related to the human race, they are the remnants of twelve tribes of humans in search of a long lost thirteenth tribe that allegedly migrated to Earth over four millennia ago. I have personally met with representatives from those twelve colonies, they number less than 50,000 housed aboard 70 odd spacecraft that had escaped annihilation of their home worlds two years ago. Obviously, they are of an advanced technology well beyond the combined technology of any country on Earth. I have seen some of their technology first hand, and members of The United States Military have been aboard the lone warship that is protecting those 70 odd civilian ships.

I realize that this revelation is confusing as well as astounding. I fully expect there to be skeptics, and those who will outright disbelieve me. Currently these visitors are in orbit around the far side of our moon as to avoid premature detection from Earth. I have requested that the fleet be moved to an orbit around our own planet for our observatories and privately owned backyard telescopes to see for themselves. These humans from beyond our galaxy have requested sanctuary on Earth. There are men, women and children crammed aboard those spaceships looking for a chance at life, and I for one intend to provide them that chance. They really are not very different from us, they want a place to live, raise their children and have a future. If we are indeed their long lost thirteenth tribe, than we have a duty to welcome our brothers and sisters and to provide them sanctuary."

Television stations across the globe that were carrying this speech were being monitored by the GALACTICA, and rebroadcast to the entire fleet via the wireless. By this time, the fleet had repositioned itself to be visible to Earth satellites, observatories and private stargazers. The sight was truly magnificent, and would forever be burned into the mind and memories of every human on Earth.

"Many of you are wondering what these people are fleeing from, why they are seeking sanctuary. You all have a right to know what is out there, and if it is a direct threat to our world. There was once a world known as Kobol, on that world was thirteen different tribes, one of those tribes alleged to have taken to the stars and colonized Earth, the twelve remaining tribes colonized twelve separate worlds. Each world, sovereign and with their own government and military. In the past, they had warred between themselves, and eventually united to face a threat that was intent on eradicating the human race. This threat is called the Cylons. These Cylons were the mechanical creation of the twelve colonies with the sole purpose of serving their human masters. Their technology was to make life easier for humanity. Over time this creation evolved, became self-aware and eventually turned on humanity waging a forty year war. After a brief armistice, the Cylons launched a surprise attack on the twelve colonies. Their efforts to eradicate humanity almost succeeded if not for the efforts of a lone surviving military warship named the GALACTICA. The GALACTICA is what you could consider a hybrid of an aircraft carrier and battleship that travels through space. They are known as Battlestars, and they are bigger than any warship ever created here on Earth.

Over the last two years the GALACTICA has been the lone protector for 70 odd spacecraft not meant for prolonged space flight, their occupants forced to endure cramped accommodations in cold, sterile, metallic spacecraft. Substandard medical care, limited food rations and constant pursuit and harassment by their enemies the Cylons are the conditions these fleeing humans have had to endure. Some of you are probably wondering if these refugees have led the Cylons to our solar system, and if we are at risk. I have been assured that all efforts had been made to lead the pursuing Cylons hundreds of thousands of light years in the complete opposite direction of our world. For the time being we are safe, but the Cylons are aware of Earth, and they will seek us out in time.

The presidents of the colonies and her military commanders have impressed upon me the importance of our governments working together. Capitalists, Socialists, Communists, Christians, Jews, Buddhist, and Muslims…all people of the world regardless of race, class or religion or culture must put aside their differences and work together. They have offered to help speed Earth's current technology along, and just the medical and space traveling advancements themselves will change the course of our lives. We must show the colonists how worthy humanity is for them to have traveled so far, and endured such hardships to reach us, not knowing if Earth was a myth or real. This announcement is only the beginning, the logistics of providing a home to 50,000 humans from another world and technology is daunting, but with our cooperation, we can, and must accomplish the task. I realize this is all so much in such a short period to digest, I urge you all to remain calm and open-minded about these visitors. Welcome them to Earth, let them know that they can lay down their burdens and breathe deeply the fresh air of freedom, free from pursuit and oppression. Thank you all, and may God bless the inhabitants of our world, and these new arrivals."

Two weeks pass and representatives from Earth and Colonial politicians meet in endless sessions to work out a plan for the temporary housing of the Colonials. Two recently closed Air Force and Army bases each sitting upon roughly 18,000 to 20,000 acres and slated to be sold for commercial use were appropriated to house the fleet. They were chosen due to an already built-in infrastructure and their ability for containment. The Colonials were being quarantined at first until teams of medical personnel could examine them, and treat those that had gone for so long without the required help. Truckloads of food and other necessities had been arriving daily to restock the shuttered post exchanges.

Groom Lake, Nevada.  
Captain Lensherr, Lieutenant Thrace and Major Adama sat with their counterparts from Earth for the cross-training program. The GALACTICA's CAG listened intently.

"Colonel Hoffman we have approximately 22 NASA pilots, and 18 Air Force Raptor Pilots for the first class of 40 that are to be trained on the Viper Mark II. The NASA pilots were given priority due to their training in space flight and zero gravity." began Lensherr. "The forty will be split up into groups of ten that will be assigned to Apollo, Starbuck, Nightstalker and I. The 94th Fighter Squadron out of Langley Air Force base has been kind enough to lend us ten F-22's for our use. The next class will be Navy fighters and Marine fighters after that."

"How many of your pilots do you plan to train on our Raptors?" asked Hoffman.

"Unfortunately the number of Raptors far exceeds our Vipers, and until the production facilities retool and start cranking out Mark II's it looks like the initial bulk of training will be our fighters familiarizing themselves with your fighters." Said the CAG, speaking up for the first time. "I intend to commit at least 10 pilots at the start, Starbuck do you have the list?"

Kara Thrace flipped through a chart and read off the names. "Eagleone, Prometheus, Aslan, Aphrodite, Sledgehammer, Falcon, Hotdog, Lancelot and Photon." She glanced at Hoffman when finished. "These are some good pilots, Hannibal…they won't break your planes!" Lensherr's eyebrow rose at hearing Starbuck's familiarity using Hoffman's call sign, it was a name his recent duties would have no use for, so he was surprised that she would use it. The rumor mill was already swirling about them. Good for her, thought Lensherr. Why shouldn't she find happiness? The attraction between the two was obvious, but both professional enough not to let it affect their work.

"I'm afraid your fighter jocks might find themselves bored with the inferior technology." Said Hoffman in jest.

"I've studied the F-22, and flew against them when we first came to Earth, that's a damned good fighter, Colonel. I would give the F-22 a fair chance against a Viper in atmospheric flight any day." Replied Lt. Mark Sarnex diplomatically. Mark Sarnex was arguably one of the better viper pilots aboard GALACTICA, and was not one to disperse praise lightly. He studied up on the F-22 Raptor in the short time he had with the schematics provided, he loved its design and could not wait to fly one.

Hoffman and a Lieutenant Colonel with him seemed genuinely surprised to hear that, and were pleased with the praise from their peers from space. This was going to be an incredible era in Earth's history, and privately Hoffman wondered if this would be the end for militaries across the globe. If Earth's technology were to be accelerated, than everyone would benefit, and share the risks. If these Cylons were indeed searching for Earth, they probably would not differentiate between Americans, Russians, Chinese, or Arabs. This was an enormous opportunity for the world to put aside its petty wars and aggressions, now was the time for Earth to become united.

The CAG took a long pull on his mug of steaming coffee, it had been a long time since he had "real coffee" and was enjoying it immensely. "Major Adama I understand that the first phase will consist of classroom time familiarizing the pilots with the basics controls of a Mark II Viper?"

"Yes sir, their aircraft and ours are remarkably similar when it comes to atmospheric flight, with slight difference in avionics that can easily be discussed. These 40 pilots are amongst the best on Earth, I expect no difficulties. The longest aspect of training will be getting them accustomed to space flight, and I have every confidence in Colonel Hoffman's pilots." Replied Adama.

"Well the pilots are in the classrooms, and all of your information has been put on power point for you to use, Major Adama." Said Hoffman.

"Power point, eh? I was given a quick lesson on that program, and I have to say it will be more than adequate for what I have to cover. After you Hannibal!" The squadron and assistant squadron leaders made their way into a large conference room outfitted with desks and comfortable chairs. The Earth pilots all sprang to their feet at the position of attention when the instructor officers walked in. Each Colonial officer was greatly impressed at the military decorum exhibited by the United States military, and marveled how many customs they shared.

Plans were in the works for Viper training to be conducted in all five of the current super powers, those with modern Air Forces. This was a massive task, and far from a done deal. Each world leader had acknowledged the existence of the Colonials, even if they had doubts, or outright refused to believe they were once part of the same tribes of Kobol. They were realistic enough to know that the Colonial technology far outstripped their own, and a possible enemy was out there in space searching for them with the intent on subjugating or destroying them. The possibility of peace on Earth was near, if only in order to unite to defend against an enemy more powerful than any found in all of Earth's history combined. The lone Battlestar was not enough to defend Earth, and until smaller scale versions of a Colonial Battlestar could be produced, properly staffed, and field tested producing space capable Earth Vipers would have to do. Thousands of Vipers would have to be constructed, and twice as many pilots would have to be trained to fly them in the rigors of cold, unforgiving space. This would require trained pilots from every modern air force on Earth. Eventually flight academies for civilians with absolutely no flying experience would be opened, but for now getting at least a dozen squadrons of Viper pilots trained expeditiously was the priority, and seasoned jet pilots were given those immediate slots. Many ranking officers through all five branches of the United States Military privately and in some cases publicly speculated if this was the beginning of the end of US Military forces, and the beginning of a combined Earth Defense Force. Time would tell.

Lensherr pulled back slightly on his joystick, he had "called the ball" and was on final approach to the GALACTICA's port landing bay. He brought his battle-scarred Mark II Viper christened Nemesis gently down onto the deck using maneuvering thrusters. Upon hitting the deck, the magnetic locks on the landing gear engage, and the Viper slowly descends on a platform into the hanger deck. Members of the deck gang wheel a set of stairs over to the cockpit, and he removes his helmet and collar.

"Welcome aboard Hephaestus!" yells deck officer Tyrol glancing over a clipboard. "You letting those nuggets fly your baby?"

"Chief, some of those nuggets from Earth will give the Cylons a good run for their money. They are outstanding atmospheric pilots, and once they are trained in a Viper, I would have absolutely no problem taking any of them into Silver Spar. Some of their strike fighters are amazing, and the men and women who pilot them are hard core."

"We'll soon see, Matt. They had better be as good as you say they are, one aging Battlestar and two squadrons of obsolete Mark II Vipers held together with spit and wire won't be enough to defend an entire planet if the toasters show." The two men parted ways, and Lensherr made his way towards his quarters. Oddly enough, he had decided to remain in the brig converted to living quarters with the Admiral's permission. Next to Admiral Adama, Matt Lensherr and his Cylon wife had the largest private quarters on the GALACTICA. He was passing through officer's quarters when he passed Lt. Nina Nintius' open door.

"Good evening Matthew." Said Nina sitting on the edge of her bunk, she had just returned from the gym and had worked up a sweat. Her tank top was soaked, and pert nipples protruded through the fabric. He averted his eyes, which did not go unnoticed, Nintius smiled. "I don't suppose you care to give me a good scrubbing mighty Hephaestus?" flirted the Raptor Pilot known as Betty.

"Not sure the wife would appreciate that, Nina. I would hate to see her remove your pretty head from those muscular shoulders. We both know she's pretty capable of such a feat." Flirted Lensherr. The two were old friends, and an attraction between the two never went acknowledged. She was an amazing Raptor Pilot, and Lensherr always prodded her to get qualified on a Viper without success. She kicked off her sweatpants and stood in her underwear and tank top while gathering her basket of toiletries that she would take to the showers. Just then, her cabin mate Elyssa D'Alma walked in with Jenna St. Lynn known as Kraken, another Raptor pilot that had many male aboard GALACTICA competing for her attention. Kraken waited in the doorway.

"Why Hephaestus, we can come back at a better time if you two need a moment" said D'Alma slyly. Her flight suit was peeled down to her waist, and her military-issued tank top revealed a serious view of cleavage that engulfed the chain of her identification tags.

"Is it possible for any of you women to ever be in uniform when I come around?" joked Lensherr. Not that he minded, all three of these women were extremely attractive, and even D'Anna had made similar observations on their attraction. Now that thought could go places, thought Lensherr to himself smiling.

"You did have something to say to me did you not, Matthew?" asked Nina.

"I just wanted to check in with you regarding your class. Most of the personnel you will be instructing will be surveillance and Intel people assigned to AWACS flights. You have researched the AWACS, correct?"

"Affirmative. We are going to start ECO training with a live Raptor flight in the 2nd week. Relax Hephaestus…everything is under control, and everyone knows what they have to do."

"I am relaxed Nina, this is such a huge undertaking for both peoples, and Gods only know how long we'll have before the Cylons show up."

Poseidon and Kraken were still in the cabin, and Kraken had something on her mind. "Hephaestus what's up with the old man wanting to build Mercury class Battlestars? Something wrong with the GALACTICA class?"

"You know as well as I do that the GALACTICA was ready for decommissioning, she's an old war horse well past her prime. Just trying to build a Battlestar from scratch with people not even familiar with the technology is a challenge; if you are going to make the attempt, then why not go for the top of the line model? Smaller Battlestars will have to be built at the start, and will most likely carry two squadrons of Vipers max. No retractable flight pods, or networked computers, from what I hear the plans for the new Battlestars will concentrate on speed and maneuverability."

"I still think it kind of a surprise, the Admiral obviously knows what he's doing, but it's a shame to see no more GALACTICA class Battlestars. Hear anything on Mark VII productions?"

"Right now it's been decided to stick with Mark II's, they are easier to construct and operate, especially for people who have never flown a Viper, or flown at all for that matter." Replied Lensherr. The two women were scheduled for patrol and after retrieving what she came for, Poseidon and Kraken headed for the launch bay, Nintius waited patiently until they were alone.

"Matt look, we've been friends a long time, and I know you…you're getting stressed out. Between the impending baby and training the Earth pilots, you are burning yourself out. Take a breather, go to D'Anna and get some rest." Her concern was genuine, and she knew her advice to relax would most likely be ignored.

"Thanks Nina, I'm going to see D'Anna now, I've been gone too long as it is. I'm hoping that the Admiral will let me take her down to the surface before the baby arrives, actually take in some of the blue skies and fresh air."

"I'm so happy for you, Matt. I always had the attraction you have for her pegged for infatuation before finding out she was a Cylon. Who would have guessed that you'd still have feelings for her even after finding out who she really is?"

"She's different, Nina! Maybe the other series 3 models harbor the same feelings for humans as the Leobins and Doral models, but not D'Anna…I wonder what caused her to break from her series. Lords know her entire model has most likely been boxed by now."

"Have you ever asked her?"

"We've had this discussion many times, she can't explain it either. Nevertheless, she is happy, and at ease as she is accepted little by little by our people. I love her deeply, and want to make a life with her on Earth."

"You're a fine husband, and will make an excellent father to that child, Lensherr! Hopefully the little toaster won't have your tendency to overwork itself!" With that, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Lensherr on the forehead gently. "Go to your wife, I'm sure she's waiting for you."

Upon entering the door Lensherr was greeted by a very pregnant Cylon, she hugged him tightly and Matt winced slightly at her incredible strength. Even pregnant she was so much more than human. A long kiss gave way to another embrace, this time not so hard.

"I'm so happy you're back! I have been going out of my mind up here." D'Anna helped Matt out of his flight suit and handed his a pair of shorts. He sat down on the couch and exhaled loudly. He stretched his back and let out a yawn.

"We're making some good progress with the Earth pilots, D'Anna. In all honesty, they really are not that far behind us technology-wise. Their potential is amazing, and they embrace every advancement with that look that says…'oh that's right, how the Frak did we not see that before?"

"This still leaves them well behind Cylon technology, Matthew. The Cylons have a better FTL technology that allows the Raiders to jump. Even with my help, we still have not found a way to incorporate that technology into the Vipers. Eventually they will track us here, and I fear that Earth still will not be able to muster an adequate defense. The GALACTICA is only one ship, she can't hold off the entire Cylon fleet." Said D'Anna sadly.

"With luck we won't have to, Earth has an amazing wealth of raw materials and production facilities that can be switched over to start producing Vipers with some amount of difficulties, but nothing insurmountable. Producing a Battlestar, even a smaller scaled version will be the challenge."

"This baby is coming soon; I'd rather it not be born in the cold sterile environment of a steel spaceship floating in space. I would like to have this baby on Earth; I want this child to have an attachment to this planet and its people." Said D'Anna intently.

'This is something I've been thinking about myself, and something I need to talk to the Admiral about. I will do everything in my power to make it happen, D'Anna. This child is the next step in human and Cylon evolution, but Earth will be our home, and I want the child born there." The two climbed into bed and held each other tightly. Lensherr drifted off into a deep sleep. His tired mind started to dream about the past.

"Action stations, actions stations…incoming Cylon attack force, this is not a drill!" Lieutenant Felix Gaeta said over the intercom. Commander Adama was just stepping into the CIC to relieve his executive officer when the call to action stations sounded.

"XO what do we have?"

"Incoming Cylon raiders on intercept course, we have a count of at least forty, alert Vipers already launched with remaining squadrons being loaded into the tubes. Raiders are 14 minutes out." Replied Tigh.

"Any sign of Basestars?"

"Negative sir, if there are they remain outside our DRADIS range."

"Prepare fleet for emergency jump, Lieutenant Gaeta spool up the FTL's. XO I do not want any Vipers beyond the recovery line, I want them back here the moment the fleet is safely away in the event the Basestars jump in." snapped Adama.

"Aye aye, sir." Retorted Gaeta as he ran his fingers across the keyboard on his console to prepare for a faster-than-light jump.

Four Mark II Vipers streaked towards the incoming raiders led by Lieutenant Matt Lensherr; Hotdog and Eagleone flanked him. Lieutenant Mark Sarnex was bringing up the remaining Silver Spar squadron with Blue squadron not far behind.

"Weapons free gentlemen, we've got to hold the line until reinforcement's arrive." said Lensherr disengaging the safeties on his own weapons system. Eagleone was close on Lensherr's port wing, and was itching to add to his raider kill count that he privately kept.  
Nightstalker and Hotdog were paired together, and each knew beyond doubt that they could count on the other to cover them in battle.

The Raiders opened fire first, and each set of Vipers peeled off in perfect unison returning fire. They started to mow down their opposition, and their DRADIS picked up incoming Colonial Vipers entering the engagement zone.

"Lets go get em, weapons free, and lets mop these Frakers up quick, the fleet will be safely away soon." said Apollo over the comline. His wing cannons had taken out an oncoming Raider that got past Hephaestus' group. Blue squadron had entered the fray with a vengeance, their Mark VII Vipers aggressively engaging enemy fighters. Apollo was not about to let Silver Spar squadron have all the fun. The two opposing squadron leaders exacerbated the friendly rivalry between the two squadrons sometimes.

Nightstalker and Hotdog flew in a near perfect combat formation; they stayed tight on each other's wing and annihilated every Raider that came in their path. Blue squadron had its fair share of excellent pilots, and at the time, Silver Spar squadron seemed to have been assigned all the nuggets.

Lieutenant Brendan Costanza was a seasoned Viper pilot, and usually found in the company of Hephaestus and Nightstalker. The trio had the most kills of Silver Spar squadron, and Matt Lensherr thanked the Gods for his fortune of having such pilots under his command.  
Hotdog was an exceptional and aggressive Viper pilot. He blasted a raider in two, the debris field raining down on his canopy. Glancing to the left, he saw a Raider approaching from Lensherr's blind spot. "Hephaestus…you've got a bogey on your six, heads up!" warned Hotdog.

Starbuck reacted instantly; she brought her Viper into a roll and reversal via maneuvering thrusters to better position herself for a shot on the raider threatening to blow Hephaestus and his wing man out of the stars. She fired off a burst striking the raider in the observation port that houses the Cylon's red eye.

Hephaestus banked his Viper to the left and ran into a full barrage of Raider fire. He was attempting to avoid a large piece of Raider debris that surely would have done significant damage to his craft had he struck it. The rounds walked their way across his left wing and struck the wing-mounted cannon. The explosion shook his ship violently. Alarms started sounding throughout the cockpit, and his structural failure alarm chirped loudly. He was in trouble, and was not sure if he would have to eject. There was not a Raptor close by, and he was in the middle of a deadly firefight. Ejection most likely would have hastened his exit from the mortal world.

"Hephaestus…..Hephaestus…..are you okay, what was that explosion? Matt…Matt!"

Matthew Lensherr awoke with a start; he was back in his bed, D'Anna sitting up looking at him. He was soaked in sweat and breathing heavily. Where did that dream come from? That encounter was over a year ago, and he remembers barely making it back to GALACTICA. Chief Tyrol just about had a coronary when he saw the extent of damage to the Viper. He was finding himself dwelling on the past frequently of late.

CHAPTER 11

As the weeks pass, the new Viper pilots become more familiar with the design, avionics, and armaments of the Mark II viper. Each pilot had logged a minimum of 100 hours in the flight simulators and it was time for them to fly an actual Viper. The problem was that Colonial Vipers were meant for single occupants, thus the pilots were going to be soloing for the first time in the alien aircraft. At the suggestion of Starbuck, four dual seat Mark II Vipers were scheduled to be built for training purposes. The flight instructor would sit behind the trainee with the ability to assume control of the aircraft in the event of an emergency or trainee error. In the meantime, the first training academy for Viper pilots would be forced to fly solo. Subsequent academies would utilize the training vipers. Starbuck had been a taskmaster in her training, and she admired the skill and professionalism of the Earth military pilots in the program. What a difference it made to train people who already had intimate knowledge of avionics and flying experience, and in many cases combat experience. While Viper technology was quite advanced and intense, training still lay ahead for space flight, the American military pilots grasped atmospheric flight of the Mark II quite easily. As the time passed, Starbuck and Hoffman worked closer, and longer hours together. The attraction was unmistakable, Hoffman was a widower who lost his wife to ovarian cancer a decade ago, he had no children, and he submerged himself deeply into his job to keep his mind off his loss.

The simulators were powered down for the evening, and pilots released to unwind at the base officer's club. Hoffman threw his tired feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair. He was tired, but he was like a man reborn with a mission that could not fail. He was going to train himself, and his men to master the Mark II Viper. Starbuck noticed his fatigue and rolled her chair over to his. Without bothering to look if anyone else was even about, she started to massage Jack's aching shoulders. His eyes snapped open, but she applied pressure down on his shoulders, forcing him to remain in the reclined position. "Relax Jack, enjoy it. Gods know I don't do this for anyone else."

"It feels great Kara, thank you. I really am tired, this old body shouldn't be attempting flying fighter planes, that's a game for the young!" quipped Hoffman.

"Are you serious?" snapped Kara momentarily stopping the massage. "You're hardly old, and you're in better shape than some of GALACTICA's pilots." She was sitting directly above his head peering down at him. Her eyes locked on his, they were a light colored blue that she thought was one of his best features. Suddenly she just reached down and kissed him on the lips passionately. The feint scent of what seemed like Jasmine filled his nostrils, and her blond hair that was normally tied in a ponytail to fit in her helmet cascaded down, the elastic band clutched in Jack's right hand.

"Oh you like your women's hair down, Colonel?" purred Starbuck as she slowly pulled back from the kiss. Her long fingers resuming kneading his tired shoulder muscles.

"Kara when was the last time you sat down to a real dinner, and fine wine?" asked Hoffman sitting up and now turning towards her.

"The last time I ate in a fancy restaurant was on Aquaria, about 8 months before the attack. I was on leave and an old friend took me out straight from my arrival at the space port." I think I ate Tellan eggs in a cream sauce. The eggs are a delicacy; they come from a very large waterfowl with a razor sharp beak. You have to be extremely foolhardy, or careful to attempt to steal their eggs. Quite an expensive dish, not something I would normally be able to afford on a brand new junior Lieutenant's pay."

"Well I can't offer you Tellan eggs, but there is a nice restaurant about 60 miles down route 375, very quiet and rumored to have some of the best steaks in Nevada, though not much in ambiance." Offered Hoffman. "Of course there is a dress code, and somehow I think sweaty flight suits may draw unwanted attention. Perhaps we can stop by the base PX and pick you up some blue jeans and blouse.

"Some dress code, I think I know enough about Earth fashion to know I won't be dressed for the military ball." Laughed Kara.

"Well its getting late and we have a full day tomorrow in the simulators. I guarantee you the best steak and Pinot Nnoir anywhere in this state." Replied Hoffman gathering his belongings. The switched off the lights, and closed the door. Walking out into the early evening, they were treated to a glimpse of the sun setting. They walked over to Hoffman's 2009 BMW Z10 convertible. He opened the door for her, and they sped off towards the main part of the base that housed the Post Exchange.

The F/A-18F Super Hornet idled on the tarmac awaiting clearance for take off. The Weapons Systems Officer, known as a WSO happened to be a pilot on loan from the Navy who would act as WSO for the Colonial's training on the aircraft. This navy Captain went by the call sign Blackjack. The pilot was a Colonial Viper pilot named Brandon Costanza, a lieutenant from Silver Spar squadron, call sign Hotdog. The two would be prey for six Air Force F-22 Raptors tasked with taking them down.

"Are you ready, Lieutenant?" asked Blackjack over the headset.

"Affirmative Captain lets get this crate in the air and kick some ass!" Blackjack laughed at the reply, if he was insulted by the use of the word "crate" to describe his aircraft it did not show. The tower had cleared them, and they would be given 20 minutes for a shake down run before the op would commence.

Hotdog brought the Super Hornet airborne with ease and climbed for altitude. He did some basic maneuvers, and was feeling quite comfortable on the stick. It took some time for him to get used to a throttle for speed as opposed to a foot pedal that was used in the vipers.

"An incredible piece of machinery Blackjack, I mean that! Earth is not far off in its technology. Of course it's a far cry from my Mark VII Viper, but she handles really well."

"The F/A-18F is an older fighter, but make no mistake she'll hold her own against the Raptor, for how long I don't know. Now keep an eye peeled, those Raptors will come out of nowhere, let us see how well your pilots handle our Raptors. This is a big thing for Navy and Air Force pilots to be doing joint training sessions. I wonder how long it will be before we're one big combined military."

"This is an incredible time in history for both our people's captain; we now have a common enemy bent on our extermination. The petty rivalries between Earth's militaries will soon be a thing of the past I think." Said Costanza.

Six Earth F-22 Raptors streaked through the cloud cover. Colonial pilots piloted three of those fighters, and their wing men were US Air Force Raptor pilots assigned to monitoring and evaluating their performance. On the Colonial side was Aslan, Photon and Falcon. Their mission was to search and destroy one F/A 18F Super Hornet piloted by Hotdog.

Photon was the first to spot Super Hornet and altered course to intercept him using the sun to hide his approach. "All wings this is Photon, I have a visual on the bandit and am going in." He advanced the throttle and surged forward.

Aboard the Super Hornet, both pilots scanned the skies. Blackjack spoke up. "If you're going to pounce on your target what would be your approach?"

"I'd come in with the sun in my six to hide my approach…just like they're probably doing this very moment!" snapped Hotdog as he pulled back hard on the stick. "You see anything? I bet these Frakers are doing exactly that!" An audible alarm answered his question; they were being painted by the Raptor's radar, but were not locked on. Hotdog dove for the deck. Photon gave chase.

"One Raptor coming in from two o'clock high, good move going for the deck the way you did, he lost his cover and was easily spotted when he altered his course." Noted Blackjack.

The faster Raptor was gaining on the Super Hornet, and it was only a matter of time before Photon would have a missile lock, Hotdog knew the other two sets of Raptors would be coming in from a different tracks. The plane handled smoothly, but it was no Viper to be sure. Brandon Costanza was of the attitude that a good pilot could fly anything and adapt to make the kill. However, he was not tasked to be predator, but to be prey. A position he chafed under, as did his WSO/pilot. He was heading for a mountain range, and intended to make Photon sing for his supper.

"Lieutenant, even though the object of this exercise is to evaluate the Raptor pilots, part of my job is to see how you handle under pressure." He produced a small item from his flight suit, a small device that he plugged into a jack on his console. "I hope you don't mind some music. The band and this song is my favorite, though this is highly unauthorized, I feel it appropriate. Enjoy!" A small set of speakers were mounted on both headrests, and the cockpit soon filled with a song performed by a band called AC/DC. The song was "Shoot to Thrill." A smile crept across Costanza's face; he knew he liked this captain. The song was kick ass, and he felt exhilarated. Photon was surely going to need every ounce of skill he possessed to down his fighter he thought.

The Super Hornet descended dangerously close to the mountain range, Photon and his wing man/instructor stayed on his six and gained slowly. Lieutenant Steve Parsec worked feverishly for a lock on Costanza's aircraft. He simultaneously cursed and praised his ability to remain out of range of a lock. "Frak this guy is good, I can't draw a bead."  
At the same time Falcon and his wing man/instructor was flying high over the canyon that the Super Hornet was streaking through with abandon. Costanza could not fly at full speed as he navigated the twists and turns, which would leave Lt. Tony Bastain in a good position to kick in the after burners of his Raptor, and prepare to meet him at the other end.

Brandon Costanza was in heaven, he was flying at high speed through a rocky obstacle course that could very well kill him if he made the slightest miscalculation. He exercised serious restraint, and kept his speed slower than he would have preferred. He was flying alien technology, even if it was inferior, it was something that he had not mastered and was professional enough not to take it for granted. That and the fact that he was flying with another officer, a man he had come to like and respect in the short time since the cross training program started. He would not put that young captain's life at risk.

"You're doing excellent, Lieutenant. I take it you like AC/DC?"

"A hard sounding song that gets the blood flowing young captain, I'd like to see them sing in person some day." Yelled Costanza.

"Well they're getting a little long in the tooth, but still perform occasionally at special events; I think we can make something happen."

"Long in the tooth?" he asked puzzled.

"Getting Old!" replied Blackjack. That elicited a guffaw from the Colonial. It would take some time to get used to Earth slang. The exercise continued and Hotdog shot out of the Canyon to find Falcon waiting for him. The waiting Raptor rolled down tightly and painted their aircraft with radar. He jerked the yoke hard to the left and nearly ran headlong into Aslan who he swore he could have seen his eyes go wide as saucers in the flyby. Aslan's Raptor shook violently at the proximity of the Super Hornet's jet wash over his wing.

Falcon got a temporary lock on Hotdog, but was unable to fire before he broke away and nearly collided with Aslan. A great tactic thought Tony Bastain, ruthless bastard probably scared the life out of the younger pilot, thought Falcon laughing. Photon was not done yet, and he pushed his fighter to the maximum speed, he quickly gained on Hotdog who was now out in the open.

"Time to take him down!" said Photon to himself. Costanza was flying erratically trying to shake off the faster fighter craft. What Steve Parsec lacked in flying experience when compared to Hotdog he gained in aircraft superiority. Hotdog was now within range of missiles, a loud warble sounded in the cockpit indicating a missile lock on the Super Hornet. Photon squeezed his trigger, and two simulated air-to-air missiles were fired. The exercise was over. The Super Hornet was splashed.

Aboard the GALACTICA Admiral Adama prepared to turn in for the night. He had poured another glass of the cognac that was presented to him as a gift from General McAllister when he was first aboard. A knock at his door disturbed his peace and quiet. "Enter!" he snapped.

Matthew Lensherr walked through the door and stood at parade rest, Adama was pulling a shirt back on. "I'm sorry to disturb you Admiral; you look like you were ready to turn in."

"Stand at ease Captain' you're right I was going to hit the rack, but I've got time for my strike leaders. Care for a glass of Earth cognac?" said Adama gesturing to the desk where the bottle and glasses sat. Lensherr accepted and was directed to sit down in one of the stuffed chairs, one of the few luxuries that Adama had allowed himself when he assumed command of the GALACTICA so many years ago. "What's on your mind captain?"

Lensherr downed the remainder of his glass and looked directly at Adama. "Admiral I would like to have my baby born on Earth!" Direct and to the point, a trait that Lensherr was known for.

"A reasonable request, too many children have been born on sterile space ships wandering the cosmos since we escaped the Colonies and New Caprica. For once, I would like to see the future of our race brought into a world free from artificial gravity, air scrubbers, and cold steel deck plates. Permission granted!" Adama retrieved the bottle from the desk and walked over to Lensherr's seat; he refilled the glass and sat down.

"Matt, this is your child and even though it's half Cylon, it is half human and deserves a chance at life. "Your are granted permission to take D'Anna down to the surface, but you are going to have to be under Doc Cottle's care, and I'm quite certain that Earth doctors are going to want to be in on the first delivery of an alien child on their world. This child represents our future."

"Thank you Admiral, this means a lot to D'Anna and I."

"We never would have made it to Earth if not for your wife captain. We may never have even made it past that Cylon outpost if not for her. I can't speak for the rest of the fleet, nor can I predict what the people of Earth will feel or say about her presence amongst us, but I will support and defend her right to live with us, and raise this child." The two men stood, and shook hands. "I hear we're making good progress on the Viper training." Said Adama more statement than question.

"Yes sir, the first forty pilots are exceptional, they've taken to the Mk II incredibly fast, and we're about to enter the space flight phase of their training."

"And our pilots on their Raptors?"

"As expected, not much difficulty, the F-22 is an incredible fighter for its level of technology. If the Cylons were to go head to head with them within the atmosphere, I think they could hold their own if the fought in packs. One on one they wouldn't be a match for a Raider, but they could use special tactics to make up for the lack of speed and maneuverability."

Adama reached for a file on his desk. "I've been informed that Viper production has started in several locations. We have our own representatives augmenting the Earth aeronautical engineers who have been given full schematics for the Mk II. I've been assured by our own people that the quality and attention to detail has been at maximum by the builders. I expect twenty Vipers off the production line within a month. Not very impressive by our standards, but a major accomplishment for people who've never even seen the technology before."

"What about fuel and ammunition, sir?"

"Ammunition wasn't even an issue; very minor modifications had to be made in the tooling of the projectiles. Many of the elements that make up our tylium are present on Earth, what is missing has been synthesized. The shakedown runs will see if the synthesized components are adequate."

"What about Battlestar construction?" This was the biggest hurdle, a GALACTICA-class Battlestar was bigger than four Nimitz-class Earth Nuclear powered super carriers. Adama had authorized the production of Mercury Class Battlestars, which were even bigger and more complex in design and operation. One would not be built in a matter of months no matter how many people worked around the clock.

"Not an insurmountable exercise, but not an easy one either. A full sized Mercury Class Battlestar took years to build back in Colonial dry-docks. That was with experienced ship builders intimately familiar with every aspect of a Battlestar. We do not have that luxury, hence my reason for a smaller version of the Mercury. They will have a maximum of 30 Vipers and 6 Raptors. Nuclear warheads will not be a problem, the United States military has an over abundance of them, and they will be so equipped, as well as point defense guns."

"I appreciate you sharing this with me Admiral, I'll leave you and those far smarter than I the task on how to get these Battlestars built. Good night sir and thank you."

Good night, Captain!"

Lee Adama sat in the training office, mug of steaming fresh coffee sitting in his hands, a half empty box of Krispy Kremes sat before him, the remnants of one cream filled powdered donut lingering at the corner of his mouth. Flipping through some evaluation forms, he looked very pleased. Lt. Nina Nintius entered the room.

"Good morning Major, up fairly early are you not?" Queried Nintius as she stuck a finger in her mouth removed it and used it to wipe the powder off the CAG's mouth. Only she could get away with something like that, Lee liked his top Raptor pilot very much, and was often his sounding board for ideas. He felt that she would make a fine CAG someday, providing she would qualify on a Viper. That subject was played out endlessly with always the same outcome. She was in a duty uniform; one that Lee felt complimented her rock-hard physique splendidly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Betty?" He held out the box of donuts, which Nintius declined. After pouring herself a large mug she sat down opposite him.

"I've been peeking at the progress reports, you must be pleased. Lensherr and the other squadron leaders are doing a good job with the Earth pilots. I see that half of them have already signed off on atmospheric flight with the other half right behind them. It'll be fun to see these guys escape Earth orbit in the Viper and see how they respond to my gentle charms."

"Lt. there is nothing charming about your training sessions!" laughed Apollo as he took another gulp of coffee. "Damn this coffee is excellent; it's been so long since any of us had 'real coffee' as opposed to that synthesized garbage aboard GALACTICA."

The door opened and Mark Sarnex sauntered in, followed by a very tired looking Kara Thrace. The only flight instructor missing was Lensherr. Sarnex sorted through the box of donuts, and grabbed a double chocolate, much to the annoyance of the CAG who had been eying that particular one himself.

"A moment on the lips….forever on the hips Nightstalker, I believe the Earth saying goes." Purred Nintius. Sarnex sat down next to her and took a huge bite.

"Well you can always help me burn off the pounds, Betty." Flirted Silver Spar's assistant squadron leader.

"I am going to take you up on that offer someday Nightstalker; you may be surprised at how much I take off you." Smiled Nintius. The chemistry between the two pilots had not gone unnoticed amongst those that knew them best. The mild flirtations were constant, both were single, yet neither had acted on those flirtations.

"You look like felgercarb Kara, did you sleep at all?" asked the CAG.

"It looks like she had a long night with the handsome Colonel Hoffman!" said Nintius pouring herself another mug of coffee.

"I had a splendid dinner with the good Colonel. A fine steak dinner and some nice wine to wash it down. We talked for hours, we did not even notice that the owners had lowered the lights and sent their staff home. They probably would have let us lock up if we stayed any longer."

"Just talked? Come on Kara, give us some details." Said Sarnex, scarfing down another donut. Apollo moved the box closer to him. Kara Thrace just smiled and tied her hair into a regulation ponytail.

"You'll have to satisfy your curiosity with one of the porn magazines that are littered throughout the locker room, Mark. I don't kiss and tell."

"Alright folks, lets get on track…what's on the schedule for today?" asked Apollo. Sarnex made a grab for the last donut, but the CAG reacted with lightning speed, cracking a clipboard on the top of his outstretched greedy hand. "Damn it Nightstalker, have a Gods-damned vegetable of something." Apollo took the last donut himself and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Almost all of our pilots have been signed off on the F-22 Raptor. Gods know why we need to be learning to fly those, but we're just about finished." Replied Sarnex nursing a painful hand.

"Partially political, partially practical, we have more pilots than we have Vipers for, you know that. In the meantime, the Admiral wants to establish some camaraderie between the Earth pilots and us. We are going to be taking in larger numbers of pilots from different countries in the next academy; it is my understanding that we will be creating some kind of unified Earth Defense Command. I have no idea what the particulars are, nor do I know how they are going to accomplish it seeing as how up to a number of months ago many of these nations were adversaries."

"Any idea if they are going to start rotating pilots off of GALACTICA? Not that we want to be replacing seasoned Viper pilots with nuggets, but what is the long term goal once the new pilots earn their Viper wings?".

"It is my recommendations that as the new pilots are cleared on all aspects of flying the Mk II that they be rotated to GALACTICA. Some of our pilots need to get off that tin can and see some blue sky for more than a few days of leave. The details are being hashed out between the old man and the US military command."

The phone rang and Apollo answered it. He thanked the caller and replaced the receiver. "Hephaestus has just landed in a Raptor with wife in tow. He'll be joining us after lunch."

All right kids, my class on Raptor-Viper vectoring starts in five minutes. Try to place nice while I'm gone." Said Nintius exiting the room.

Matt Lensherr and his very pregnant Cylon wife stepped off the Raptor and into a home provided to each flight instructor. Their first stop was to the chow hall for breakfast, then to the base hospital for some prenatal consultation with the base doctors, and the GALACTICA's Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Cottle. A special room had been set up in the medical wing of the base. Groom Lake was not a typical Air Force base, and not many babies were delivered there. However, this would be a first for Earth doctors, and a third delivery of human/Cylon child for Cottle. Another aspect of Earth history would be conducted in that specially prepared room.

Almost all of the food aboard GALACTICA and the remaining ships in orbit was coming directly from Earth now, but Lensherr decided to have this morning's breakfast planet-side with D'Anna. The sat at a table in the corner, and he walked to the buffet and fixed two large plates of French toast, scrambled eggs and crisp bacon, toast with assorted fruits and juices. D'Anna had never acquired a taste for coffee, and opted for tea. They enjoyed every bite of their meal, and sat talking for almost an hour.

"It is so nice to get out of that Battlestar, Matthew. The Admiral has come a long way regarding me, hasn't he?"

"He has taken some flak over the months. Too many people wanted you air locked, and he stood his ground. He believes you, D'Anna. He may never have said it, but his actions have spoken loudly."

"I doubt I'll ever truly be accepted on this world, or in the fleet, but none of them matter; only what you feel is what concerns me. I'm just happy to have the opportunity to breathe in the fresh air, and to bring our child into a world not enclosed by cold steel and stale atmosphere."

After breakfast, the two drove over to the base hospital. Lensherr looked sharp in his duty uniform, the difference between the Colonial military and Earth's was that the officers of the Colonial service did not wear headgear, while their earth counterparts were required to wear their "covers" at all times when not in a building. Security Police snapped to attention and saluted to the Colonial Captain as he walked past them. Rank insignia was distributed to both militaries in order for all personnel to be familiar with their counterparts and allow for the proper respect and military decorum to be followed. Lensherr returned a crisp salute, and D'Anna flashed both guards a warm smile, and said good morning.

They were directed to the appropriate wing, and were soon greeted by Major Cottle and about two dozen Earth doctors specializing in obstetrics, gynecological health, and a variety of other fields that were there to evaluate their first pregnant Cylon.

Aboard the GALACTICA, Adama had been informed that Colonial 1 had just arrived in the port-landing bay. He ordered a detail to pipe President Laura Roslin aboard and dispatched his executive officer to greet her. Colonial One would soon be landing on Earth, and the President would be setting up a temporary office in an area that was halfway between the two Military bases being used to house the remnants of the twelve colonies. This would be her last official visit to GALACTICA. Members of the Council would also be joining her on her Earth, and would be at the same temporary location in order for their respective constituents to meet with them. This was another difficult issue for the Colonials. There could not be separate governments if they were to assimilate with the thirteenth tribe of Earth. Their arrival had caused non-violent havoc amongst the people of Earth, where would they live, and who would represent their concerns or interests? There was so much to do, so much to learn about each other. The inhabitants of Earth were at a crossroad. Peace and unification amongst all of humanity was within reach. The difficulty was in how to grasp it, and retain it.

Laura Roslin stepped off the gangway and onto the deck of GALACTICA. A military detail awaited her, and a loud alternating pitch sounded to the side. Colonel Tigh stood at attention a few meters from her. "Permission to come aboard, Colonel?" asked Roslin smiling.

"Permission granted Madam President, and welcome aboard." Said a smiling Tigh looking sharp in his always-pressed duty uniform. Admiral Adama is awaiting your arrival in the CIC." The two walked the long distance to the CIC, and Roslin thought that she really was not going to miss visiting this old ship. She looked forward to being on terra firma again, with clean air, blue skies, and the sounds of wildlife in her ears. Upon entering the CIC Admiral Adama smiled and offered his hand.

"Welcome aboard Madam President!" said Adama graciously. The two had not gotten off to a good start immediately following the attacks on the colonies, but in the years on the run had become very close friends and confidants.

"Lt. Gaeta, you have the deck!" ordered Adama as he motioned for the President to follow him. Colonel Tigh was officially off duty, and would be retiring to his quarters. Felix Gaeta acknowledged the order and Dee Adama relieved him as the Tactical Officer.

The two walked to Adama's nearby quarters and sat down. A steward had arranged for a tray of fresh pastries and coffee to be waiting for them. Adama dismissed the ensign and proceeded to pour two cups of coffee. He knew how Roslin took her coffee and handed it to her with a small plate of pastry that had arrived from Earth in the last delivery.

"I'm going to miss these visits above all, Bill." Said Roslin with a touch of sadness in her voice.

"The feeling is mutual Laura; I've enjoyed our visits over the years." Replied Adama as he bit at a lemon square. "This is your last official visit to GALACTICA before going down to set up shop. I thought it appropriate that our visit be as casual as possible." He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a wrapped object. Handing it to her, he slowly sank back into his overstuffed chair.

Roslin was surprised, she took the gift and carefully unwrapped the paper. Two large leather-bound books were within, one from famous Earth author William Shakespeare, and the other was a book about Hercule Poirot, a famous fictional detective written by  
author Agatha Christie. "Bill, I don't know what to say…this is so thoughtful of you." Said Roslin, clearly touched by the gift.

"I knew you have a taste for a good mystery, Laura. Shakespeare came highly recommended from General McAllister who also happens to be an avid reader."

"Will you be going down to the surface any time soon?"

"Funny you should mention that, as a matter of fact I will be the guest of General McAllister and President McGregor at an Earth sporting event. An annual college football game, played by opposing teams of the United States Military Academy for their Army, and the United States Naval Academy. From what I'm told it's got quite the historical Rivalry theme to it."

"College Football?" asked Roslin.

"The more popular sport played in their colleges, there is also a professional league, but these are military-orientated colleges." Explained Adama.

"I see…well you've always enjoyed sports, and I'm sure that this will be a nice change from Pyramid. You deserve some R & R, Bill; you have held this battered fleet and the hopes of the people within it together for so long through such trying circumstances. If there was a rank above Admiral I'd bestow it upon you!"

"Thank you Laura, that means so much to me. We have finally made it to Earth, and only the Gods know what will happen next. Our people are at a pivotal junction in Colonial history, as I am sure the people of Earth are also. We need to seize these opportunities, and create a better future for all of us." Said Adama.

"Admiral…I couldn't have said it any better.

Ten Peter Built tractor trailers rolled to a stop on the South runway, within each trailer was two newly constructed Mark II Vipers. Flight crews carefully rolled each fighter down the ramp with the assistance of a medium sized tractor. The paint job pristine and red striping precise along the nose and wings. While the speed in which they were constructed was not equal to the shipyards of Caprica, the time it did take was a testament to Earth industrial prowess in completing the task with completely alien technological design and propulsion. The tail rudders were numbered E1 thru E20, the E standing for Earth. The plates affixed just below the cockpit canopy all blank, awaiting the assigned pilot's call sign to be stenciled on it.

Captain Matthew Lensherr stood with Colonel Hoffman and Major Adama overseeing the offload. The Vipers were parked neatly along the flight line. "Beautiful job Colonel Hoffman." Said Apollo looking highly satisfied. The three officers walked from Viper to Viper making non-specific observations in and out of the cockpit.

Colonel Jack Hoffman stopped at Viper E1; he ran his fingers over the starboard side 30mm cannon protruding under the wing. He knew that this Viper would be assigned to him, and was looking forward to having his call sign Hannibal stenciled onto the side. Lensherr came up behind him putting his hand on his shoulder. "An excellent job colonel, once we get them fueled and pre-flight checks done we'll see just how well Northrop Grumman did their jobs." Said Lensherr.

"There are fewer if any other manufacturing plants of military aircraft on Earth that could do a better job, captain. You have no idea what a second lease on life you people have given me. After my wife died of cancer, I buried myself in my work, eventually landing behind a desk. When I sat in the cockpit of your simulators it all came back to me, even if it was not a fighter I ever flew. I was in the skies again, and that's all that mattered." Replied Hoffman.

Lensherr was good at reading people, and his first impression of Jack Hoffman was a serious chair-bound paper pusher in need of an infusion of life. Putting him back in the pilot's seat gave him that infusion, as did Kara Thrace. The attraction between the two was hardly a secret, or vague. He had known Kara for years, and since meeting Hoffman, had become an almost different person. He was happy for her, and now he felt equally happy for a man he had not known for very long, but had come to respect.

"Kara is good woman, and a great Viper pilot, Jack. Please forgive me if I'm overstepping my boundary, but I want you to know that she is well liked and respected aboard the GALACTICA, and I've never seen her happier than what she is now since she met you." Offered Lensherr.

"Thank you Matt, it means a lot to hear you say that. I like her very much."

"If you two are done chit chatting perhaps you'd care to suit up and take these new fighters out on a trial run." Shouted Apollo from the cockpit of a Viper. Hoffman had signed off two weeks ago on the Mk II Viper, and his space flight training was intense. He looked forward to piloting his own Viper free from the confines of Earth's gravity.

The Northup Grumman group had created a powerful copy of the Colonial Voram VM3-D22 turbo thrust engine with some slight alterations, Vipers E1 through E6 idled on the flight line as the pilots checked and double-checked every system. Colonel Jack Hoffman adjusted the straps on his chute harness, his airtight gloves gripping the control stick. The whine of the engines sounded like music to his ears, and he awaited clearance from the tower.

"Dreamland to Viper One and Two you are cleared for parallel take off on runway Delta, over." Came the voice of the air traffic controller on the pilot's helmet coms.

"Dreamland, Hannibal receives clearance on Runway Delta, over." Hephaestus was in Viper E2 and acknowledged the tower, as did the remaining four Vipers piloted by Apollo, Aslan, Fireball and Aphrodite. Hannibal released the brakes and taxied down the runway increasing his speed, Lensherr kept abreast of him at matching speed. The two newly built Vipers hurtled down 27,000 feet of runway extending out over Groom Dry Lake. Once airborne the two Vipers climbed to their cruising atmospheric ceiling of 80,000 feet, thirty thousand higher than an F-22 Raptor was rated for.

"This is incredible Hephaestus; it handles so much tighter than the Vipers from GALACTICA that we trained on." Said Hannibal.

"You need to remember that the CAG kept his best Mark II's in reserve aboard GALACTICA, and that you trained on Vipers that were operational, but far from optimal. There is not one Viper aboard GALACTICA that has not been beaten on, or held together with spit and wire. I am certain that these new Vipers will replace most of the front line strike fighters aboard GALACTICA, and the older planes brought planet-side for training. However, between you and me Colonel…the Viper you are currently flying has been reserved for you. With authority come the perks." said Hephaestus.

"Thanks for the heads up captain, I'll act surprised when they give me the keys." Replied Hannibal laughing.

"Hannibal, Apollo…are you ready to take that ship into space?"

"Say the word Major, and I'll kick in the burn." Replied Hannibal.

"Good Lords he's been hanging out with Starbuck too much, either her or Aslan." Deadpanned Hephaestus. The six Vipers fell into a tight formation and burned a trail to the upper atmosphere. The new fighters performed flawlessly and were soon escaping Earth orbit. The Colonial pilots found the new Vipers very comfortable, the seat upholstery was very thick and comfortable. The Vipers aboard the GALACTICA had been subjected to endless patrols and combat flights with very limited replacement parts. Tee shirts and rags had been stuffed into the seat coverings to give the pilots some comfort for the long patrols. The seats on the new Vipers were constructed of the finest leather and sheepskin available, and the tired Viper pilots aboard GALACTICA would welcome them.

Hoffman marveled at the view from space. This was his forth trip up in a Viper, this time he was no longer a trainee, or soloing for the first time. He was a certified Viper pilot and he was roaring through space. Aslan pulled up next to Hannibal. "Welcome to space Hannibal, you're no longer a nugget but a full Viper pilot."

CHAPTER 12

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

It has been almost nine months since our arrival on Earth. I continue to be amazed at the welcome our people have received. Sanctuary has been graciously extended to us, and over the months, our people have left the stifling confines of their ships to relocate to the planet's surface. We had found Earth to be very similar to our own worlds, with slight differences outside of technology and space flight.

The planet is populated by a variety of races and governments, many of these governments were adversarial at best, outright enemies at the worst. I have chosen to ally the fleet with the planet's leading power, the United States of America.

We had revealed to them the existence of the Cylons, and the direct threat they posed to Earth. This started a process of bringing nations together, something that had been impossible prior to our arrival. I had authorized the creation of a joint training task force with senior commanders of the United States Military to train new Viper pilots, and have been informed that the academies are excelling. Subsequent training academies will be opened to nations outside of the United States in due time.

As of this time, the production facilities at Northrop Grumman have produced four complete squadrons of Mark II Vipers, and another six squadrons are expected to be completed in the next four months at the Louis-Charles Bréguet aircraft builders in France. Construction on the new Mercury class Battlestar has remained on schedule and at this pace may well be completed on schedule, and the keel for the second Battlestar has already been laid. Due to time constraints, I decided to have the new Battlestars built at a smaller scale. She will house a smaller compliment of Vipers, but she will be highly maneuverable due to her size, and project enough firepower to hold her own against a Cylon Basestar.

A temporary program has been created to train new officers and enlisted personnel to fill slots aboard GALACTICA and future Battlestars. These men and women will be chosen from the current rank and file of Earth's various militaries. As the nations of this world make peace and lower their sabers, the need to sustain their bloated militaries decreases rapidly. Plans are in motion to disband the numerous militaries of individual nations and unify under one planetary command.

In closing, I have decided to promote Colonel Tigh, and give him command of the new Battlestar upon its completion. He has been my executive officer for close to ten years now and has proven fully capable of commanding his own Battlestar. Just before the attack on the Colonies, I was in the twilight of my career, looking **forward to retirement. Now I find myself with renewed vigor and purpose, I look forward to what is to come.**

It is with a degree of joy and fear that I can report that the child of Captain Matthew Lensherr and Cylon D'Anna Biers has been born on Earth. This human/Cylon hybrid may well be the face of humanity to come. The proud parents have named their son James. Captain Lensherr is still temporarily assigned to the training facility at Groom Lake, and is housed in the Officer's quarters. It is unknown whether mother and child will remain on Earth when his assignment is completed. The officers and their spouses have warmly received D'Anna, though I am unsure if this is out of respect to Captain Lensherr, or through her own formidable charm. For now, she has been accepted, and I hope the good will endures when the Cylons finally find Earth.

Leoben looked about the room, peering deeply into the eyes of each humanoid-Cylon before him. "We've tracked them across the cosmos to no avail it would seem." His cold gray eyes revealed nothing about what he was feeling. The Six standing before him smiled.

"It would seem that they led us on a fool's quest. At least 15 extremely long jumps and still no sign of the Colonial fleet, I'm impressed." Said the Six.

Cavil did not look so pleased, or impressed. "It was an elaborate ruse; we've traced their signal to each quadrant only to have found nothing…each time!"

"There is no doubt we were purposely led in this direction." Said Doral. "We're far away from any support or resurrection ship. How far do we want to take this?"

"I say we retrace our steps." Growled Cavil.

"How far back, how do we accurately determine how far back we should go?" asked Six.

"We go back to our last confirmed contact with their fleet, evaluate all data and possible courses they may have taken. We're well out of range of the main fleet, so we'll be on our own for awhile." Replied Leoben. "Fortunately this Basestar is at maximum Raider capacity if we do come in contact with the GALACTICA and her pathetic charges." With that, the massive Cylon Basestar jumps away.

In Admiral Adama's quarters, a meeting is underway with Top Earth Military Commanders and their Colonial counterparts. With the completion of at least four new Viper squadrons, the task before them is to make them operational.

"After discussion with the CAG and General McAllister we have decided to make the current four Viper squadrons operational. For the moment, these squadrons will be assigned to planetary bases, and I intend to assign three of those groups to the New Battlestar upon its completion." Said Adama. The CAG had stood up and retrieved a magnetic status board from the corner of the room, propping it up on a stand. It revealed an organizational chart for the air wings assigned to GALACTICA.

"As of 0800 hours this morning Lieutenant Mark Sarnex has been promoted to Captain and assigned as squadron leader of Werewolf squadron. He will have ten Vipers under his command, and he will choose his assistant squadron leader within the next few days after reviewing performance records from the new training academy." Said Apollo. "These squadrons will be a mix of pilots from the GALACTICA and Earth's recent training graduates. We will begin to integrate air wings, and begin rotating tours of one year between the fleet and Earth. The remaining squadrons are still in flux as to who will be leading them; I have yet to speak with Starbuck, Falcon, and a few of the other senior pilots."

"The fleet?" said Tigh with a note of amusement. The Admiral spoke up in response.

"The new Battlestar will be online after her shakedown cruise and testing. The new Mercury Class Battlestar has been designated TERRA-1 in honor of the people of Earth. Their blood, sweat and tears accompanied the materials used to build her and I feel it an appropriate name for her. Furthermore, the new commander of TERRA-1 will be Colonel Tigh. I could think of no other officer better suited than my executive officer who I have had the distinct honor of serving with for the past ten years aboard GALACTICA." Adama walked over to the seated Tigh with hand extended.

"Colonel it has been an honor, and I humbly present you command of Earth's first Colonial Battlestar TERRA-1." Adama presented the command white shoulder cord to replace the yellow one normally worn on the executive officer's dress grays. Tigh stood and shook hands, coming to the position of attention he snapped out a stiff salute then accepted the shoulder cord.

"With great appreciation I accept command of TERRA-1, Admiral. I will do my best to prove worthy of such an honor, and make her a model of efficiency in Earth's new planetary defense force." The men in the room stood and applauded, and one by one shook hands with the new commander of TERRA-1.

"Commander Tigh will be selecting his executive officer who will be coming from US Air Force senior command. While the rigor of space is no place for on-the-job training of pilots and Battlestar command staff, we do not have the luxury of an alternative. General McAllister and I have been in intense discussions with Presidents Roslin and McGregor, and it has been agreed that an integrated military across the board is in our best interest as one human race."

"At this time I ask Major Lee Adama to step forward and receive the yellow cord of executive officer of the Battlestar GALACTICA." Lee knew his rank and seniority had qualified him for consideration of the XO position, but he did not expect to be chosen. He had grown accustomed to being GALACTICA's CAG. General McAllister stepped forward and held out the yellow cord to a slightly stunned Lee Adama.

"Congratulations Colonel. It will be a pleasure to welcome you to senior command staff." The armed forces of Earth's various countries had temporarily formed a committee consisting of the senior military officer of each country until one military could be fully formed. General McAllister was the ranking officer for this committee.

"Thank you, sir!" replied Apollo coming to attention and saluting.

"Let's finish this up gentlemen." Began Adama. "Lt. Thrace is hereby promoted to Captain and now assigned as GALACTICA's CAG and will assume command of Blue squadron. Captain Lensherr will remain as squadron leader of Silver Spar.

Lensherr was not at this meeting, but he was briefed on what the contents would be. Adama left it to him to break the news to Mark Sarnex on his promotion and new assignment. He was thrilled for his good friend Mark, but dreaded losing him as his ASL. His choice to succeed Sarnex was Lieutenant Costanza; call sign Hotdog. Sitting in his office he was glancing at the photo of his wife and new son that he had taken and framed. The birth was without complications, and Earth doctors as well as Colonials received a rare treat in delivering a human/Cylon child. His temporary assignment awarded him a two bedroom spacious apartment in the officer's housing on base. D'Anna had made a very comfortable home for them, and he wondered what they would do once his assignment ended. He knew she would not be returning to GALACTICA. Now that the fleet had arrived at Earth, all civilians had moved planet side. The crisis that necessitated the housing of civilians on a Battlestar was over, and there was no need to risk having them aboard now.

The door flew open as Mark Sarnex walked in, box of Krispy Kremes in his hands. He plunked down into a stuffed chair and offered Lensherr a double chocolate donut.

"No thanks Mark, you'd better watch out with those things or your ass won't fit into a Viper anymore." Laughed Lensherr.

"I do enough exercise to keep my girlish figure in check, worry not Hephaestus!"  
"Just looking out for you, my friend, I wouldn't want an expanding gut and ass to prevent you from assuming your new assignment." Replied Lensherr.

"What new assignment?" said Sarnex, his mouth full of donut.

Lensherr stood up and held out collar pins of Captain's rank to a surprised Sarnex. "Congratulations Captain! As of 0800 hours today, you have been promoted to Captain. You are hereby assigned as Squadron Leader of the newly formed Werewolf squadron.

"You're Fraking kidding me?" said Sarnex incredulously.

"I'm afraid not Nightstalker, you're officially in command of your own pack of fighter jocks at the rank of Captain. Congratulations my friend, you deserve this." Said Lensherr smiling. "It gets better too…once the new Battlestar is online you will find your squadron assigned to it. The new Battlestar has been designated TERRA-1 and will be under the command of Colonel Tigh."

"I have to admit, I never thought I'd see my own squadron." Said Sarnex staring at the gold collar pins. "After the destruction of the Colonial fleet and the prospects of finding Earth remote I just assumed I'd ride out my days as your ASL."

"Well its official and you deserve it my friend. Now let's get these collar pins where they belong."

Back on board GALACTICA Lt. Nina Nintius had just finisher her morning workout. After showering, she changed into her duty uniform when a knock came to her cabin door. "Enter!"

Lieutenant Jenna St. Lynn; call sign Kraken had entered the room. Nintius finished fastening her tunic and then placed her long hair into a ponytail. "Lieutenant, thanks for getting here so quickly, take a seat." Kraken sat down on the edge of Poseidon's bunk and casually glanced about the room waiting for Nintius to speak. "Admiral Adama has made several promotions and assignment changes to GALACTICA's air wing. As of today, your Raptor and ECO has been assigned to Silver Spar squadron. With the creation of new Viper squadrons, we no longer need to rotate Raptor teams throughout the GALACTICA's two squadrons. We will be receiving a third squadron soon, and each squadron will be assigned a permanent Raptor team and secondary.

"Aye sir." She replied, clearly pleased to finally be assigned full time to one squadron.

"I thought I'd ask off the record, but have you had any other "issues" with Lancelot?" asked Nintius, clearly remembering the last encounter between the two. Lancelot had far too strong an amorous streak to him, and Kraken while extremely attractive, was not interested in forming any relationship within the GALACTICA's air wing. She smiled, remembering the incident in the pilot's lounge with the fire extinguisher. She had been used to being hit on by men when still a civilian on Caprica, and had fully expected to be treated as an equal when she enlisted in the military. While most Viper pilots were reputed to be oversexed, Lancelot had proven to be the extreme.

"No sir, a good frozen blast to the balls cooled him off. It's doubtful I'll need to repeat that performance." She replied.

"Excellent! Remember Jenna, these Viper jocks think that they are the Gods gift to the female species and need to be brought back to reality. You're attractive and got an incredible body that can get you anything you want in life, but let these Frakers know that you're a pilot and an officer first and foremost." Nina motioned to the door, as Kraken started to walk by Nina grabbed her by the shoulder gently. "Just don't forget that you're a woman, and use your charms where you can!" Nina liked Kraken very much; she was not a weak, preening, vacuous female that gave strong female officers a bad rap. The Colonial Military was a bit different from the military branches on Earth, there female officers and enlisted personnel faced various levels of sexism. She had never experienced sexism in her career, and was damn near sure she wouldn't let it creep up from Earth to infect the new military that was being formed.

Nintius was tough as nails, and those that knew her well knew she did not suffer fools lightly. While having a reputation for being extremely flirtatious, she was a top notch Raptor pilot, the best in the fleet, and an above average officer overall. Those under her command, especially if they were female were going to be respected, and they were going to excel.

Mark Sarnex had just finished replacing his collar insignia with the new rank when the door opened. In walked D'Anna carrying the Lensherr's new offspring, Sarnex could not believe she had just had a child not too long ago; she was almost back to her perfect shape already with some noticeable changes. D'Anna was obviously nursing the baby and the bust line he always enjoyed sneaking a peek at was even bigger.

"I hope I'm not interfering with anything, gentlemen?" asked D'Anna as she placed the baby carrier onto the desk. Sarnex peeked into the carrier. "Beautiful child you two have there…I'm sure he gets his looks from his mother." Said Sarnex playfully. D'Anna walked over to him and embraced him, giving his a quick kiss. "My… aren't you the flirt."

"I was just informing Mark of his promotion to Captain, and new assignment as Werewolf squadron leader aboard the new Battlestar." Said Lensherr

"Congratulations Mark, I can't think of a better man for the job. I'm surprised Matthew let you be transferred."

"Captains don't refuse Admirals." Laughed Lensherr. "On a serious note though, I was disappointed to lose you as my ASL, it's been an honor to serve with your, and its past time you got your own air group."

The three had a lunch date off base and climbing into Lensherr's assigned hummer they soon drove away.

Laura Roslin sat across from President McGregor in the oval office, Admiral Adama sitting beside her. "Madame President and Admiral Adama thank you for joining me here today. We have come a very long way in a short period, since your arrival and the revelation of a possible Cylon arrival has united this planet for the first time in history. Nations once at war or adversarial at best have put aside their differences to fight for a common goal." McGregor motioned for the Navy steward to leave the coffee tray beside the desk and take the next hour off.

"Mr. President, you above all have laid the foundation for all that has transpired since we've arrived on your doorstep, hunted and hungry, tired and in need of sanctuary. It is we who should be thanking you!" replied Roslin. "This planet is in a very difficult transition period, and your leadership has all but assured you remain in a very visible leadership position. The surviving members of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol are assimilating with their brothers and sisters from Earth, my position as President is almost at an end."

"Laura…" said McGregor using her first name for the first time. "Your people will need a familiar face during what will most likely be a difficult transition period. It is my wish and intention for you to remain in a position of high visibility, a liaison perhaps between the twelve and thirteenth colonies."

"I agree with him." said Adama sipping his coffee. "Our people need to know that all they're familiar with won't be swept away, that they won't just be placed on earth and left to fend for themselves."

"Laura it looks like I will remain in office until we have decided what to do regarding a single Earth government. The next session of the UN will be addressing this issue. All United States military branches are undergoing a massive transition, as are the militaries of the other five super powers. We have to adjust to the new realities of our lives, that no longer must we think and act locally, or globally, but to act and think beyond our world. Training academies are graduating scores of Viper and Raptor pilots from all over the world, the new Battlestar will be manned by an incredibly diverse group of humans, and the integration of our two peoples are essential, with much to offer and learn from the other. If and when you decide to step down from your position, I want to offer you a position in the temporary 'Earth Government' as a special representative for the 40,000 colonials now residing on Earth."

"Connor your generosity is inspiring, and I thank you for the offer. My plans are to resign my office, and the opportunity to serve my people in this momentous time in both our histories is too important to turn down. I accept your offer, providing that my people have no objections."

"It is agreed then, the future of your people and mine are now a future of one human race, and we will be richer for your participation." Said McGregor.

"Admiral, what is the progress on a unified earth military command?" said McGregor changing topics.

"Mr. President, the GALACTICA, along with Terra-1 will serve as protectors for Earth. As we design and build new warships, we will need qualified officers to serve aboard them. Per your orders as US Commander-in-chief your naval fleet has been reduced to less than 30 warships, the combined compliment of all the displaced personnel commissioned and not will be redeployed to the new combined Earth Defense Command. Your air forces have been reassigned to the EDC air command, Army and Marines reassigned to EDC ground forces." Said Adama.

"For such a massive undertaking, things are transitioning smoother than I dared to hope." Replied McGregor.

"As the senior surviving Colonial officer of flag rank I will remain in command of the GALACTICA, and be the commanding officer for EDC's space-faring element of the military as agreed upon. General McAllister will be the overall EDC commander, and an organizational chart of his senior staff and sub-staffs are provided in the documents on your desk. The EDC will be answerable to the civilian authority when it is finally chosen, in the meantime our armed forces will be answerable to you and the United Nations Security Council."

"How close are we to Terra-1 being fully operational?"

"She is being fueled, which as you know is not an expedient process. She is fully armed, and once free of Earth orbit she will receive three complete squadrons of Mark II Vipers for a total of 30 Vipers and 6 Raptors. Terra-1 and subsequent Battlestars will be much smaller than the GALACTICA. We do not have the luxury of time to build a full-sized Battlestar armed with 100 Vipers as I explained earlier. We need a fast striking attack force to defend against a much larger enemy force if and when the Cylons locate Earth."

"I understand the crew compliment is close to 1500?" asked Laura.

"Yes Madam President, a full sized Battlestar has a compliment of 1750 to 2650 personnel. The smaller version will cut crew requirements in half. Fortunately, the disbanding of military units across Earth will yield highly disciplined individuals that have entered our training academies. I have reassigned experienced personnel from GALACTICA to staff Terra-1, and help further the Earth crew's familiarity with the technology. Terra-1 will have a qualified crew, maybe not as seasoned as GALACTICA's, but we do what we can with the resources available to us."

"How is retention of current Colonial personnel?" Adama shifted in his seat and placed his coffee cup back onto the saucer that sat on the corner of McGregor's desk.

"After consulting with President Roslin I had decided to issue an edict putting retirements from active service on hold until Earth personnel could be properly trained." It was obvious that McGregor was taken back by that decision. "Mr. President, I've had to make incredibly hard decisions since the destruction of our worlds, and every single one had been with the goal of what was best for our race's survival. Martial law is not unknown to any nation on Earth, and from what I have researched not always enacted in the best of ways. Members of the Colonial military knew what was and continue to be expected of them, and the survivors know in a much harder learned lesson than their predecessors did. I don't expect a wholesale retirement from the service when the order is lifted, right now it must be done while everything is in flux."

"Mr. President, I can assure you that I am not one that is normally in favor of the military commanders imposing Martial Law but under these circumstances I am forced to agree with the Admiral. The threat is just as great, and it would not do to have a skeleton crew operating our defenses. We learned such a lesson back on New Caprica."

"I understand, and please believe me when I tell you I'm not questioning your judgment, Admiral. You know full well the threat we face, and what needs to be done to combat it better than I ever could."

"A space-faring warship is no different than a sea-faring one, Mr. President. It requires extremely talented and bright men and women to operate them efficiently. Learning the operations of a Battlestar takes years of training, and we are particularly handicapped due to the technology being so advanced and the possibility of discovery by the Cylons at any time. We have been getting extremely intelligent and professional military officers from across the globe, as well as civilians who have grasped the technology at an incredible speed.

"Earth Defense Command…the concept boggles the mind."

"The people of Earth will have to adapt to thinking as one world as opposed to hundreds of independent nations. It will not be easy and there will be obstacles, but the alternative is unacceptable with the threat of Cylon discovery. The Cylons will not play favorites; they will destroy this planet if they cannot subjugate it." Said Adama.

Roslin spoke up. "Mr. President, after their experience on New Caprica, I doubt the Cylons will attempt subjugation. Not when there are billions of humans as opposed to less than 40,000 to control. I fear if they come, they will attempt total liquidation of the human race once and for all."

On that somber note, the meeting ended and Adama returned to GALACTICA. Roslin remained behind to discuss her future role when she resigns the Presidency. The Raptor lifted off from Edwards Air Force Base and made for orbit. Raptor 3, piloted by Kraken approached GALACTICA as she maintained orbit around Earth.

"GALACTICA, Raptor 3 requesting clearance to land with GALACTICA Actual."

"Raptor 3 this is GALACTICA you are cleared to land in the port landing bay."

Kraken brought the Raptor through the immense portals and lowered the craft onto the deck. The decking automatically magnetized holding the Raptor to the deck in zero gravity. The platform lowered into the bay below where the occupants would disembark. Adama stepped out as Kraken finished powering down her instruments; he walked briskly to the CIC.

"Admiral on deck!" informed Gaeta who at that moment was officer of the deck when he saw Adama enter the CIC.

"As you were people." He replied strolling over to Lee who stood beneath the DRADIS, hands folded behind his back.

"Welcome back Admiral. I trust your meeting went well?"

"As expected XO. How are we on replacement vipers?"

"We've completely replaced every Mark II Viper on board; all older models have either been sent to the Groom Lake to be used in training or finally taken out of service. It was amazing the condition of some of our front line Vipers, prior to the attack on the Colonies I'd be willing to bet that none of those Vipers would have been on the line." Said Lee.

"We accomplished miracles with what we had; at least now GALACTICA's Viper compliment is up to full strength. Is the new squadron ready to go online?"

"Affirmative sir, Hunter Seeker squadron is aboard. Falcon is presently on the flight deck meeting his new squadron."

On the GALACTICA's starboard flight deck Captain Tony Bastain; call sign Falcon was performing an impromptu inspection of the pilots assigned to the newly created Hunter Seeker squadron. Eight men and women stood at attention as Falcon and Hannibal, his assistant squadron leader walked by. The new squadron was a mixture of Colonial and Earth pilots. All looked sharp in their flight suits, eyes straight ahead and faces expressionless.

"Alright nuggets…your sorry asses have been handed to me because the Admiral had the foresight to put another strike squadron in service. You are now members of the soon-to-be top fighter squadron in the fleet…Hunter Seeker Squadron!" Growled Falcon. "I've reviewed each one of your military records, and evaluation reports on your Viper training and previously assigned aircraft. I do not impress easily nuggets, but I do like what I see before me. We will train hard! The Cylons are coming, it is only a matter of time, and two Battlestars are all that stands between living and dying. We will drill relentlessly in simulators and out in your fighters. None of you Earth pilots have faced a Cylon Raider, and you must train extra hard to have a chance against them in actual combat."

Falcon stopped in front of an Earth pilot and stared directly into his eyes. Major Shen formerly of the Peoples Republic of China's Air Force met his gaze, with the formation of the one world military many officers had their rank readjusted. "Lieutenant Shen, I understand that besides Hannibal you're my most experienced Earth pilot, in fact you've already met two of our own pilots during an act of aggression upon our arrival. I trust I can count on your experience?"

"Your assumption would be correct, Captain." Said Shen flatly, his gaze never leaving the spot before him.

"Excellent. I realize that many of you held higher rank on Earth, and I appreciate your acceptance of rank reduction for the new Earth Defense Command. As I am sure you all know, we cannot have a military that is top heavy in rank. We will be the squadron that all others aspire to. Our assigned Raptor team will be Phoenix and ECO Snapdragon aboard Raptor 4. Get to know each other better than you already do; you are a team, and my team plays together, eats together and spackles the bowl in the head together! Do I make myself clear?"

A resounding "Yes Sir" filled the launch bay, and they were dismissed to preflight their Vipers. The call sign and name of the pilot penciled on the side of the fuselage directly under the canopy.

Hannibal walked over to Falcon. "No worries about having an old fighter jock assigned to your squadron as the ASL?"

"I've seen your record; you have plenty of combat experience that will make up for what you're lacking in Raider experience. What I need is an ASL who can keep a tight grip, this is a brand new squadron and I plan to make it the best."

"Then I'm your man. It's been years since I've seen real combat, but I wouldn't miss the chance to get back in the cockpit for anything."

"The let's give these mother-Frakers the training they need to become that hard core fighter squadron." Replied Bastain. Ten Vipers were loaded into the tubes; one by one, they hurtled into the darkness of space.

Lensherr was wide-awake; he had climbed into bed an hour ago and could not fall asleep. D'Anna slept peacefully beside him, and James slept in his crib in the next room. He gently rolled out of bed and walked into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a bottle of beer. He liked Earth beer very much, and particularly enjoyed the German-brewed variety. It felt like forever since he drank the beer of his home world of Aerilon, and whatever alcohol was on board GALACTICA and any of the other fleeing ships were almost completely gone within the first year of their exodus from the Colonies, what passed for the home made beer and harder alcohol left much to be desired. Opening the bottle, he walked out onto the balcony into the hot evening air of Nevada. The stars looked completely different from this angle. He enjoyed having his feet back upon solid ground and wondered how soon he would be recalled to GALACTICA.

"You need your sleep Hephaestus," came a voice from behind him. He did not turn, and awaited the warm hands to slide around his waist. "Perhaps I need to give you better incentives to stay in bed?"

Turning around he looked D'Anna straight in the eyes. She looked incredible in the moonlight, and her green eyes stood out brightly. It was hard to believe that she was a cybernetic construct. Two years ago she and her other Cylon models engineered the downfall of humanity, now he was married to her and conceived a child. She was different, not as ruthless as the Doral model, or as deadly as the Leoben model. She was beautiful, seductive and she had what could have been called a crisis of conscience. She turned her back on her race and aided the fleeing humans. As a result, her entire series was most likely boxed. He bent down and kissed her on the lips.

"Tomorrow we launch Terra-1. I will be escorting her into space where she will receive her new squadrons. I'll be gone at least the entire day."

She looked at him curiously. "You're upset about losing Mark, aren't you?"

Lensherr pursed his lips and replied. "No, this is a great opportunity for him, he's ready for his own wing and he'll be in a position to mold his team his own way. I'm bumping Hotdog up to ASL, and I should probably be grateful the old man didn't take anyone else from me."

She took the bottle from his hand and took a swig. "So is this new Battlestar going to have the firepower to confront a Basestar when it arrives?

"It won't be able to stand toe to toe, and its fighters will be outnumbered by at least 70 Raiders. However it is lighter and more maneuverable which will make hitting it that much harder."

"You realize they will find Earth. By now, they have discovered the ruse, and will be backtracking their jumps. Leoben will be relentless, especially with the Cavils driving him."

"We'll be ready for whatever they throw at us, come on…get your ass back in bed and give me some incentives to stay there!"

0800 hours. Hundreds of media trucks lined the road that ran along the perimeter of the Groom Lake facility. Today was the day that Earth's first space-faring warship would be launched. Security was intense, and absolutely no unauthorized personnel were allowed on base this day. Most non-essential personnel were given the day off. The Battlestar Terra-1 was the combined project of Colonial technology and Earth resources. She was half the size of the GALACTICA which was roughly two Earth Nuclear-powered Super Aircraft Carriers long. She would carry thirty Mark II Vipers split into three squadrons: Werewolf squadron, Omega squadron and Red Lancer squadron. Six Raptors are attached to the Battlestar with three of them assigned to the Viper squadrons. Her weaponry consists of Primary and point-defense Kinetic Energy Weapons, conventional missiles, and nuclear warheads.

Commander Tigh's entourage arrived at the scheduled time. Outfitted in dress grays with the white shoulder cord of command he stepped out of the vehicle. Unlike their Earth counterparts, Colonial officers did not wear headgear in any of their uniform variations. The Colonel was followed by General Peter McAllister, the Supreme Commander of the Earth Defense Command, and former United States Marine Corps Lieutenant General Alexander Patton; the new executive officer now at the rank of Colonel. They passed through the honor guard and were piped aboard per Earth military custom.

The corridors were spotless and very bright, unlike GALACTICA thought Tigh. Earth and Colonial crew members came to attention as the party passed en route to CIC. He paused at the main door, a thick glass sliding door with the Battlestar's insignia etched into it. The crew members within the CIC were standing at attention when Tigh walked into the room, he stopped beneath the DRADIS screen suspended from the ceiling and looked around him. The men and women before him were dressed in their duty uniforms, and staffing their assigned stations. This CIC was smaller than GALACTICA's, and was all on one level.

"Ladies and gentlemen please stand at ease." ordered the new commander of Terra-1. "This is an historic day in Earth and Colonial history, and we are all fortunate to be part of it. As the first commanding officer of the Battlestar Terra-1, I wish to thank all of those who have volunteered to serve aboard her. Colonel Patton and I look forward to serving with you, and know that this warship will be staffed by the finest personnel in the galaxy."

Tigh clasped his hands behind his back and turned towards his executive officer. "Colonel, preflight checks have been reported complete, please initiate start up procedures." Colonel Patton was the poster boy for what a United States Marine should look like; he stood at six foot four inches, and had a high and tight haircut that was starting to show traces of gray.

"Aye aye, sir!" came the crisp reply. "Helm, verify that the gangway has been retracted, and launch zone secured!" After communicating with the yard control, it had been confirmed that the launch zone was clear and secure and authorization had been granted for lift off at Terra-1 Actual's discretion. The engines had roared to life, the helmsman's board indicated green confirming all systems operating within normal parameters.

"Colonel we are cleared for take off!" reported Patton.

"Helm take her up." Ordered Tigh.

The massive spaceship slowly lifted off the ground as its maneuvering thrusters glowed brightly. The event was being filmed, and every corner of the globe was watching history in the making. The launching was well scripted for the media; Terra-1 leveled off at 4000 feet above the surface of the planet and hovered. The sounds of Viper engines screamed overhead as the air wing for Terra-1 flew in tight formation from the far side of Groom Lake low over the main road containing the media. The flyby was spectacular and soon disappeared over the mountains. Terra-1 engaged her main engines and started to pull away from the area, slowly ascending.

"Entering the upper atmosphere, Commander." reported the XO. "Vipers are riding our wake and gaining."

Captain Mark Sarnex was at the tip of the formation, his hand gripping the joystick tightly. The rush of breaking free of any planet's orbit and entering the cold beauty of space always pleased him. His brand new Mark II Viper handled magnificently; there were no cobbled together parts, slight shuddering when engaging the thruster pedal or the more than occasional short. This was a fresh off the factory line fighter, and it was his. He was now the strike leader for Werewolf squadron, and had nine other pilots under his command. His ASL was Lt. Rachel Frost; call sign Bedlam. She had briefly served aboard the Battlestar Columbia prior to the Cylon attack. She had been transferred to GALACTICA in an effort to keep her from facing a court martial for shattering the jaw of a senior officer who had groped her, as she was alone in the hanger bay. She was an excellent pilot, and Sarnex was happy to have her under his command.

The fighters remained in Terra-1's wake, as she broke free of Earth's gravitational field. Once the Battlestar arrived on station the air wings would be directed to land. In the CIC, the DRADIS had picked up GALACTICA's location high above Earth. The communications officer turned to the executive officer. "Colonel, I'm receiving a scrambled message from GALACTICA actual."

"Put it on the speakers, Lieutenant!"

Admiral Adama's voice boomed across the wireless. "Welcome to space Terra-1, and congratulations Commander Tigh and crew."

"Thank you Admiral, all systems are functioning and we await your orders to start our shakedown cruise."

"Gather your wings and execute shakedown maneuvers, Commander…and Good Hunting!" The wireless went silent and Tigh turned to Patton. "Colonel, order the fighters to land, we'll begin shakedown in two hours, you have the deck."

CHAPTER 13

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

With the long-awaited successful launching of the Battlestar Terra-1, Earth has added a second protector to her defenses. I have installed Saul Tigh in command and he has chosen his Executive Officer from the ranks of Earth's military. Former Lieutenant General Alexander Patton of the United States Marine Corps is an exemplary officer, and had graciously accepted a reduction in rank to Colonel and **assignment as XO of Terra-1.**

Commander Tigh had chosen his senior command staff from both Earth and Colonial Military officers. This is a testament to his professionalism and sound judgment, which I have relied on for so many years. This command is befitting a man of his service and stature. I foresee a very bright future for him, and the ship in which he commands.

The completion of Terra-1 was record-breaking, never before have Earth engineers undertaken such a feat. Their grasp of our technology and spirit they instilled in the workers who constructed the ship is beyond my ability to put into words. The keel for the yet to be named second Battlestar has been laid, and materials and labor continue to flow into the dry-dock. The people of Earth have come together for the first time in a common goal, and are determined to stand their ground against the Cylons. GALACTICA is tired, and she has served the Colonies faithfully and with distinction. She will now begin the second half of her career in the defense of her new home world. Over the past few months, GALACTICA has gone through various upgrades, and finally has brand new Vipers to protect her. For the first time in years, I feel that we finally have the means to take the fight to the Cylons. Of course, two Battlestars are nowhere near powerful enough to engage the Cylon Empire, the feelings of pride fills me nonetheless.

Earth Defense Command is now in operation, General Peter McAllister is the Supreme Commander, and his senior staff is made up of seasoned and respected officers from many of Earth's former militaries. There are three branches of the EDC; the planetary Air Command made up of Viper and F-22 Raptor air groups spread out across the globe, the Infantry Command made up of Army and Marine forces, and finally the Space Command which falls under my complete authority. My first official act has been to request the immediate construction of automated orbiting defense platforms capable of maintaining a line of defense in the absence of Battlestars. I have suggested to General McAllister that the first such platforms be stationed in a lunar orbit, and in orbit of some of the outer planets of the solar system.

My son Lee has assumed his duties as the new Executive Officer, and has already performed with distinction. I look forward with great anticipation in the coming months and years as the new fleet is built, and the people of Earth and the people of the Colonies integrate into one human race.

Since the destruction of the Colonies, and the ensuing exodus across the stars, every available space aboard GALACTICA and her civilian fleet were utilized at its fullest. Crew members were forced to live six to a crowded room on bunks stacked three high. As personnel are reassigned, and the demand for space subsides crew comfort is finally taken into consideration.

Captain Elyssa DeAlma had stuffed the last of her belongings into several large duffel bags with the call sign Poseidon stenciled in bold lettering, glancing around the small two-bunk cabin for the last time, she prepares to depart GALACTICA for her new assignment as senior Raptor pilot aboard the Battlestar Terra-1. Assigned to Werewolf squadron commanded by Captain Mark Sarnex, she looks forward to the change of scenery. Her roommate, and recently promoted to Captain, Nina Nintius sat cross-legged on her bunk.

"I can't say I'm going to miss the living accommodations aboard the 'bucket', Nina. Terra-1 is pretty state of the art…I'm surprised you didn't get the slot."

"What makes you think I wasn't offered?" asked Nina as she leaned back against the bulkhead. "The 'bucket' is my home; I couldn't imagine transferring off of my beloved GALACTICA. Besides…the Admiral obviously wanted his best Raptor pilot kept on board."

"I'm not going to miss your incredible gift for humility, Nina. I for one look forward to a modern Battlestar, and serving with Nightstalker will be the bonus. Let's see how good he is now that he's out of Hephaestus' shadow."

"I'm quite certain Nightstalker will do just fine, Poseidon. You just make sure you take care of him and your squadron. Eyes sharp, and give the tin-plated Frakers hell." The two officers stood and embraced, moments later Elyssa DeAlma was gone.

Nintius enjoyed the peace and quiet; she laid flat on her bunk staring at the empty bunk on the opposite wall. It would only be a matter of time now. A sharp rap at the door jarred her solitude. "ENTER!" she snapped.

Two large boxes stacked on top of each other entered the room. Bare arms grasped the sides of them, with a set of long legs beneath. Gently lowering the boxes onto the empty bunk its owner stood revealed. Lieutenant Jenna St. Lynn of Silver Spar squadron stood with her hands upon her hips surveying the small cabin. "Beats the six man cabins to hell!" she grunted. Turning towards Nintius, she snapped out a stiff salute. "Your new roommate reporting for duty Captain!"

"Sit your ass down Kraken, we're off duty. Well you just had the two cubits tour, not much to see, is it?"

"Like I said sir, beats the hell out of shacking up with five other foul stinking, snoring Viper jocks." replied Kraken, sitting down on the edge of the bunk. Nintius already knew she would get along fine with this one, she had long admired the brash young beauty and they way she handled herself with a very drunken Lancelot in the officer's lounge. The girl was a good stick, and had the guts to run with the big dogs.

"Is that all the gear you've got?"

Kraken tore open the top box and started pulling out neatly folded clothing. "The only things I took with me from Caprica were some decent underwear, a few family mementos and my health. This is it! At least until I get leave and hit some of Earth's clothing stores."

Nightstalker was last to land his Viper, in the future he would insist on being the first one out the tubes and last one on board. With the exception of one heavy landing by one of the Earth pilots, all went smoothly. Powering down his fighter he climbed down the ladder provided by the deck gang, and met by his ASL Lieutenant Rachel Frost.

"Nice landing, skipper. All wings accounted for and powered down."

"Excellent, let's get the nuggets squared away in their quarters and meet in the ready room at 1700 to discuss training."

"Aye sir." With that, the two squadron leaders departed the landing bay and headed for the pilot's quarters. Looking back, Sarnex was impressed with the way the deck gang parked the Vipers. The bay was much smaller than GALACTICA, but tool cribs and machinery were placed in positions that are more accessible, his guess was that the smaller Battlestar had to utilize its space more efficiently. The Vipers from Red Lancer squadron further impressed him; each Viper was painted blood red with white trim. Very nice he said to himself. Their squadron leader Vampire must have pulled some strings for that color-scheme he thought. Captain Ken Matricides was another member of the Blue squadron to be reassigned to Terra-1; he was now Squadron Leader to the Red Lancers.

Back in the CIC Commander Tigh was going over the shake down plans with his executive officer. They were to put Terra-1 through a series of tasks to test engine efficiency, weapons, and a short FTL jump to Saturn and back. Soon his three squadron leaders would be tasked with war games and practicing combat landings.

"Colonel, engineering reports ready for shake down." Reported Lt. Digit.

"Very well, signal GALACTICA and inform them we will be leaving the area to start our tests." Ordered Tigh. "Helm, bring us about on a course of one, one zero, cruising speed."

"Course one, one zero, speed at cruising, aye sir!" replied the helmsman. Moving the double handled throttle slightly forward, the Battlestar accelerated, slowly pulling out of earth orbit. Her engines rumbling, Tigh settled into a high-backed chair reserved for the officer of the deck. The GALACTICA had no such command chair, but apparently, there were such chairs on board every naval warship. The Mercury class design was modified to accommodate the various suggestions of Earth Engineers and senior military officers. The command chair was among one of them.

A blinding flash of light disturbs the tranquility of the blackness of space. Coming out of the jump, the Cylon Basestar glides ominously through the silence of space like a predator. Inside the control center, Leoben Conoy paces back and forth, a behavior that draws the attention of both Cavil models present. Doral removes his hands from the viscous fluid that makes up the control panel. "The Hybrid has confirmed that this is the exact quadrant that GALACTICA was last noted to be in by our patrols."

"Is it sure?" asks Leoben, eliciting yet another curious glance from the Cavils. Doral is unflinching in his response. "Of course!" he replies.

"Send out the heavy raiders, I want short jumps of 1000 light year intervals in alternating tracks with a complete DRADIS sweep of every quadrant."

Cavil stepped forward to speak. "This course of action was not discussed between the collective, Leoben. This is highly irregular." That brought the most feared of the Human-Cylon hybrids to a complete stop; he spun facing both Cavil models.

"That is because it wasn't left open to discussion, Cavil. Perhaps that is a reason why they have eluded us these past years, because valuable time is wasted in "collective discussions" and not enough action is being taken." All eyes were now on Leoben, each model present noticed slight changes in him over the past year. Their Basestar had roamed the galaxy in search of the fugitive humans and had been out of contact with what passed for Cylon Command for the better part of a year. They traveled without a resurrection ship, or other support ships. This particular Basestar was the most recent constructed ship in the Cylon armada. It contained a maximum Raider and munitions load, and was completely self-sufficient.

"An unusual response to a legitimate question, Leoben…quite 'human' I would say." Said Cavil with a look of disgust upon his face. Leoben closed the space between them with surprising speed. "That is because we _are_ part human, Cavil. We are the next step in Cylon-Human evolution. We should embrace that, not adhere to conformist doctrine that makes us no different than a Centurion."

"I for one am not comfortable with your actions, Leoben." challenged Cavil. Leoben just smiled, his gray eyes focused like a laser beam on Cavil.

"All things change brother Cavil." Replied Leoben ominously. Both Cavil models turned simultaneously and left the control room. A moment later, a metallic Cylon of a previously unseen model stood next to Leoben who turned slowly to him.

"He is becoming more difficult as time passes, Lucifer. Perhaps change needs to come sooner than anticipated."

The voice was soothing, almost melodic in its response. "By your command!"

Raptor 2 was making good time en route to Terra-1's current position. The new Battlestar was on its shakedown flight and had already pulled away from GALACTICA prior to Poseidon's departure. Elyssa DeAlma was on final approach, and she looked forward to her new assignment. She had been assigned to GALACTICA for four years, and eagerly looked ahead to her future. Aboard GALACTICA, she was the number two Raptor Pilot, junior to Nina Nintius, and she wanted to break free of that shadow.

She had been eligible for promotion to Captain, and felt that she was long overdue for it. A new fleet was in the making, and she would be an influential part of it. Unlike the rest of the female officers aboard GALACTICA, who allowed themselves to be pushed around by the male officers and bypassed for promotions and choice assignments, she would be different. She would take what is hers by the force of her feminine charm and capacity for playing just as dirty as her male counterparts play. She was being assigned to Terra-1 as the senior Raptor pilot assigned to Werewolf squadron. She liked Nightstalker personally, but he was going to be on his own, it was one thing to be the assistant squadron leader, quite another to be the top dog himself. She had decided that she would make her presence felt, and truly believed that Mark Sarnex would welcome her advice and charm with open arms.

"Raptor 2 this is Terra-1, you are cleared for landing in the port flight pod. Your designation is now changed to Raptor 1…welcome aboard, Poseidon."

"Raptor 2 acknowledging designation change to Raptor 1 and clearance for landing…thank you Terra-1, Raptor 1 has the ball." Replied DeAlma. The Raptor glided through the portal and hovered above a platform designated "Raptor." The craft gently lowered to the deck where it was soon held fast by the platform suddenly magnetizing. The Raptor was brought below deck and into the pressurized bay. The hatch opened and DeAlma stepped out followed by her ECO. She was greeted by Bedlam who stood in her duty uniform. This instantly annoyed DeAlma; she was expecting the squadron leader himself to welcome her aboard ship, Sarnex had sent his hand maiden to welcome her aboard, not a good start.

Rachel Frost came to attention and snapped out a stiff salute. "Welcome aboard Terra-1, Captain." Poseidon returned the salute and looked about the bay.

"I was expecting squadron leader Sarnex to welcome me aboard Lieutenant. Where is he?"

"He is meeting with Red Lancer and Omega squadron's flight leaders, he asked me to welcome you aboard, and show you your quarters."

"Very well, Lieutenant, be a dear and grab my bag!" said DeAlma imperiously, nodding to a duffel bag that would prove extremely heavy. She stepped aside and let the smaller lieutenant walk by struggling with her bag. A thin smile spread across her lips as she walked to her quarters. Terra-1 was half the size of GALACTICA, which meant the walk from flight deck to pilot's quarters, was much shorter. Within minutes, the two were at the door to DeAlma's quarters. A small placard was to the left of the door with the words _Captain Elyssa DeAlma_ emblazoned on it. The second officer's name was unfamiliar to her; it was obviously a female Earth officer that she would be sharing a cabin with. Turning to a slightly winded Lt. Frost, she had taken the strap of her bag from Frost's shoulder and dismissed her without even a thank you. The pecking order would be first established here.

Captain Mark Sarnex peered over the organizational chart of Terra-1's Air wing. It was broken down into three squadrons, Werewolf, Omega, and Red Lancers. Behind him stood Vampire, and Omega squadron leader Captain Dillon Ramsey, call sign Bloodbath. All three men were drinking freshly brewed coffee, what was once a luxury item aboard the fleet was now a common everyday item.

"Once the ship completes its shakedown we will be free to conduct our own training, gentlemen." Began Sarnex, turning back to them he swallowed another gulp of the rich Colombian blend brought aboard by an Earth officer who was very particular about his coffee. "We're in a great position to build an extremely efficient strike force. What many of the Earth pilots lack in Viper experience, they more than make up for in actual combat experience from your recent wars in the Middle East, and other excursions."

Captain Dillon Ramsey was an F-22 Raptor pilot for the former United States Air Force. He was a short, yet stocky fighter pilot from a family of fighter pilots dating back to World War 2. If only his grandfather who flew the P-38 Lightning could see him now, not only a combat pilot and military officer, but also one assigned to a warship flying through space.

"Good coffee choice by the way, Dillon" said Vampire as he refilled his mug. Vampire was a health nut, and coffee was his only real vice, other than the occasional wrong woman.

"I never travel anywhere without my own stash, Ken."

"The ship is going to make a jump out to Saturn to test the FTL drive," began Sarnex. "I would like to take that opportunity to break in the Vipers doing some maneuvers close to Saturn's rings, asteroid and debris evasion and whatnot."

"Sure, just what I need, some nugget to get his new paint job Fraked up." Quipped Vampire.

"Red Vipers…what did you have to do to get that approved? Is it a combat fighter or parade piece?" laughed Nightstalker.

"Laugh all you want Nightstalker, in the end its all about the number of kills. I just plan to look good while kicking both your squadron's asses while doing it." Replied Vampire.

Cavil was walking through the lush green gardens of Caprica with Simon at his side. The Cavil model always appreciated the original gardens that Caprica was known for and projected that image often while alone. At this time, he had Simon at his side looking for an ally in what was to come.

"He is becoming increasingly erratic Simon; his behavior is mirroring the humans more with each passing day." Simon nodded his head slowly; his projections were completely different from Cavil's. Simon tended to use logic as a means for his operation or resolving issues, and has seldom, if ever displayed the passion that Cavil or even Leoben had revealed. His projection has him walking down a pristine and antiseptic corridor of the Caprican hospital otherwise known as "the farm."

"His unwillingness to call for reinforcements to aid in our search, or even a Resurrection ship I admit has me perplexed." Replied Simon, his tone of voice low and soothing.

"He is setting himself up as some 'Imperious Leader' with delusions of grandeur." Said Cavil sarcastically. "Have you also noticed his pet Centurion hanging about?" Simon stopped and gave Cavil a quizzical look.

"We are all Cylons, Cavil. I'm unsure if 'Pet Centurion' adequately describes Lucifer."

"What in God's name IS Lucifer? It is not the antiquated Model 0005 Centurion, or the newer version foot soldier the humans affectionately refer to as 'toasters.' This thing is completely different in design, and is always within Leoben's presence. Don't you find that troubling?"

"I find that as troubling as I find this conversation, Cavil. What exactly do you want from me? Why are we not discussing this within the collective?"

"Because I have no idea who can be trusted."

"Paranoia, Cavil?" asked Simon surprised.

"Look, Leoben is acting outside of the collective; he has constructed that…thing for God only knows what reason, and is placing the security of this Basestar at risk if and when we do find the fugitives. Without a Resurrection ship, we only have one life!"

"And your one life has now come to its end." Came a new voice from behind. Simon and Cavil had swung around to come face to face with Lucifer. The Cylon had approached them in complete silence, with surprising speed and agility it had grabbed Cavil by the throat and pulled him close. "Your disruption and attempts to sow the seeds of rebellion will not be allowed to continue." Cavil's eyes widened in horror, his voice unable to be heard as the still-beating cybernetic heart is held in the talons of Lucifer's free hand. He drops both to the ground and turns to face a horrified Simon. Instead of one eye rotating left to right in the V-shaped visor of a Centurion, Lucifer had two eyes, similar in proportion to the eyes of humans, a similar red light flashed back and forth. Seconds pass in silence as the taloned fingers retract and a double-barreled projectile weapon appears.

"Stand down, Lucifer." Came the voice of Leoben. His steel gray eyes peering down at the lifeless Cavil, a pool of blood forming beneath his crumpled body. "I believe I have made my position on rebellion clear, Simon. Will there be a problem between us?"

"None Leoben. Cavil obviously had become defective and actions warranted his deactivation." said Simon, obviously not wishing to join him in a bloody heap on the deck.

"Cavil had speculated that I was establishing myself to be a…'Imperious Leader' I believe the term to be. He is partially correct; the collective process is not yielding satisfactory results on the human problem. I plan to rectify that by assuming control of the Basestar. Do you have any objections?" asked a smiling Leoben, Lucifer hovering ominously above Simon.

"I'm a scientist, Leoben. I have no such objections."

"Excellent my friend, please resume your duties." Two Centurions approached, Leoben had instructed them to remove the lifeless body of Cavil. Leoben returned to the command center of the Basestar accompanied by Lucifer. There were several different human models present, noticeably absent was any Cavil series.

Leoben stopped in the center of the room and asked for everyone's attention. "As some of you may have noticed, I have decided to take a more proactive approach to locating Earth and the fugitive Colonials. As of this moment I am assuming control of the Basestar and dissolving the collective." Surprised glances were exchanged throughout the room. "A short time ago, a Cavil series Cylon attempted to sew rebellion aboard our ship. Lucifer dealt with him permanently, and I have instructed his series to be boxed immediately."

A Number 8 model stepped forward. "What is to become of the rest of us if you're setting yourself up as leader?"

"Sharon there is a need and place for all of you." said Leoben smiling. "Cavil was unwilling to think 'outside the collective box' in order to make progress. I value all of your observations and ideas; I just believe there must be one person to put those ideas into action. The fleet is our primary concern; we cannot allow them to escape. Our future depends on their capture and extermination." He walks over to the command console and turns to Doral. "What is the status of our Raider patrols?" Doral places both hands into the thick fluid; information is instantly transmitted to his cybernetic brain.

"There are three possibilities. Planetary bodies have been detected in each of those quadrants; we need to initiate a more thorough scan of each one of those systems in order to determine a possible route the Colonials may have taken."

"Signal the Raiders to conduct an in-depth scan of their respective systems."

"By your command!" said Doral, the words echoing in the command center.

"Captain Lensherr, there is a call coming in from GALACTICA down in communications." An ensign in her mid twenties stood in the office doorway.

"Thank you ensign, I'll be there momentarily." Lensherr turned slowly to D'Anna who was sitting across from him nursing James. "I'll be back; I've been expecting this call."

"Your orders to return to GALACTICA perhaps?"

"Quite possible, the academy is running smoothly, and a capable staff is at its helm. We both knew I wouldn't be planet-side long."

"I realize that, nor am I a typical military wife that dreads her husband's orders to ship out." Replied D'Anna.

"I'm not sure how I should take that." laughed Lensherr, as he walked out of the room, taking the short walk to the communications center. Upon entering the dimly lit room, he sat down at a console and placed a set of headphones to his ear. The familiar voice of Lee Adama's wife Dee filled the earpiece.

"Captain Lensherr, stand by for GALACTICA Actual….and congratulations on a beautiful baby boy!" she added softly.

"Thank you Dee, that's very kind of you."

A slight clicking sound indicated that the call had been transferred to Admiral Adama, who was presently sitting in his newly installed command chair in the CIC. He leaned back; removing his glasses, he had flipped a switch on a small control pad on the left armrest. "Good afternoon Hephaestus. I trust I'm not disturbing you?" said Adama.

"As if that would matter Admiral." Replied Lensherr half-jokingly. Admiral Adama was not one to be kept waiting for any length of time.

"Captain I have been following your progress at Groom Lake, and am extremely satisfied with what you've been able to accomplish in your time there. I've been informed that the academy is running smoothly on all thrusters, and I'm able to reclaim my strike leader from the surface before he goes soft on me."

"My replacements have been fully trained, and are more than capable of taking the reins. We are preparing to start the next class for basic flight."

Adama had lowered his voice, spinning his chair to the rear of the CIC. "Look Matt, you've done an incredible job down there, and have helped turn out some excellent new pilots. I also understand that your family is now settled into the community, I cannot tell you how relieved I am that things have worked well regarding D'Anna. I am sure that the social atmosphere is much better down there, than her time here on GALACTICA."

"Thank you sir, she has been warmly received by many of the military wives, and has constant visits from the military doctors who miss no chance to be in the presence of a hybrid human/Cylon and her offspring. We have discussed my return to GALACTICA, there will be no problems, and she understands my job fully."

"Excellent Captain, your orders are cut, and I expect you aboard six days from now. Enjoy your leave." Adama cut the transmission line from a small keypad on his chair arm. With the flip of another button, a cup holder popped open on the side of the chair that would house his coffee mug. There had never before been a command chair on a Colonial Battlestar much less a holder to place your cup in. An Earth Naval officer for the new Battlestar put this concept forward and when he had seen the schematics he decided that he would have one installed on GALACTICA as well. "Humph…had the commanders had their own command chair and coffee holder during the holocaust maybe we wouldn't have ran" said Adama to himself, wondering why it took someone from Earth to come up with what should have been done a long time ago. He shook his head at the thought of such a flippant remark directed at the single biggest crime in the universe.

"Thank you, sir." With that, the transmission was severed, and Lensherr returned to his office. D'Anna had just finished nursing the baby and was closing her blouse when he entered. "Come on, I'm taking the day off, and we're going out for the day." He took the baby from her arms and placed him in his car seat, which would be secured in the back of his military-issued Humvee. Driving licenses were waived for the Colonial Military, and automobiles curiously were one of the few similarities shared between Earth and the Colonies.

"Where are we going?" asked D'Anna.

"Sight-seeing and an early dinner, my orders have been cut and I return to GALACTICA in six days. So I have six days to have you all to myself…and I do mean to 'have you!" smiled Lensherr suggestively.

"You are a sexually-driven Fraker, aren't you mighty Hephaestus?"

Aboard Terra-1 Tigh continues to oversee every aspect of the shakedown cruise. Executive officer Patton also remains on duty, the Marine in him needing to be intimately familiar with every aspect of his command.

"Lieutenant Digit, have all sections reported their numbers yet?" asked Tigh standing behind the tactical station. Lieutenant Antonio Digit was the tactical officer aboard the new Battlestar. His knowledge of computer systems was unequaled in the fleet, though he was beginning to appreciate the potential geniuses from Earth. They had developed some incredibly complex systems for a civilization that was technologically inferior to the Colonies.

"Negative sir, we're still waiting on the air wings that are not scheduled to run their tests yet, and the weapons line."

"I want them as soon as possible Lieutenant, we'll be making the jump to Saturn soon, and I want them ready to run the weapons tests immediately after securing from the jump." Ordered Tigh.

All was proceeding well for the newest Battlestar, from lift off to escaping Earth's gravitational field without any significant malfunction or system failures. Tigh was pleased with his new command, and the thought of reestablishing the fleet was filling him with purpose and pride, just as it did Adama.

Elyssa DeAlma stopped at the door to Mark Sarnex's cabin and knocked. Sarnex got up from the small desk attached to the far bulkhead and opened the door. "Poseidon, what do I owe the pleasure?'

DeAlma stepped into the room, brushing lightly up against Sarnex's chest. Smiling, she stood less than two feet from him as he closed the cabin door. "Where is your bunk mate, Mark?"

"Captain Dillon Ramsey will be sharing the cabin, have you met him yet?" Sarnex was feeling slightly crowded, DeAlma was an attractive woman who was normally quite flirtatious. Her uniform blouse purposely unbuttoned, and the unmistakable scent of perfume surrounding her. She moved in closer, placing her hand on his chest, using her fingers to trace the seams.

"All I care is if young Captain Ramsey will be away for the next hour or two." Said DeAlma seductively. "We have a quiet moment alone on a Battlestar that isn't reeking of stale air and tylium, and a cabin that holds a very comfortable bunk."

Sarnex backed away abruptly, startling DeAlma. "Elyssa…I'm not sure what you're thinking, but you're under my command, and I don't make it a policy of getting involved with subordinates."

DeAlma's eyes narrowed as her arms folded across her chest. "Not too long ago you were just a lowly lieutenant who couldn't keep his attentions away from me. What are you afraid of Nightstalker?"

"Well for starters, when we were aboard GALACTICA we weren't assigned to the same squadron, and I didn't fall under your command. I am squadron leader, and you are assigned to my squadron. Not only would that be inappropriate, but against regulations."

She moved closer, a thin smile forming at her lips. "Well who gives a Frak, and who would know? You know full well you want to get into my pants, and I want to get into yours!" She reached out to touch his face, a hand shot up quickly swatting it aside.

"Captain, the one thing I take seriously is my responsibilities as an officer, and a squadron leader. The last thing I am going to jeopardize either for is an oversexed piece of ass! If you thought otherwise you made a serious error in judgment." A wave of anger flooded over DeAlma as she took a swing at Sarnex, the slap stopped mid swing as he grabbed her wrist forcefully. "Make no mistake Elyssa; I'm not to be Fraked with! I have been given a tremendous opportunity, and I am not going to allow you or anyone else to screw it up. If you have a problem with this we can arrange a transfer to another squadron." The last thing Elyssa DeAlma would allow is to be run off her squadron, especially by someone like Sarnex. She would bide her time, but would not forget this slight.

"It would seem that Hephaestus taught you well, Mark. I did misjudge you, but know this…I am not to be Fraked with either, nor will you or anyone else ever chase me off this squadron. You are making a mistake; I am not like the rest of the ditzy females that you and the rest of these reprobates chase after with a 'hard-on' as the Earth term goes. My star is rising, and it would be in your best interests to be in my favor!" With that, Elyssa DeAlma turned on her heel and exited the cabin. Sarnex bolted the door shut and sat down on the edge of his bunk.

"What the Frak was that all about!"

"Ten seconds to jump." said Lieutenant Digit inserting the key into the FTL drive. Tigh's stomach knotted up, he had made hundreds of faster-than-light jumps on numerous Battlestars, but this was the first time for an Earth-constructed Battlestar. This jump would show how well the Earth engineers did their jobs. Colonel Patton stood behind Digit, this was his first jump and whatever bout of nervousness he may have had was hidden well behind the expressionless mask of his face. At the count of zero, Digit turned the key counter clockwise. Terra-1 disappeared in a flash.

Roughly 762,700,000 miles away a lone Battlestar materialized not far from the planet Saturn, she cruised majestically as the most important and dangerous test was successfully accomplished. Terra-1 had completed a faster-than-light space jump from Earth to Saturn without blowing itself to pieces, or materializing within Saturn's ice rings, or the gaseous planet itself. Lieutenant Antonio Digit breathed a sigh of relief as a firm hand came down on his shoulder. Looking up he saw Colonel Patton with a broad smile on his face. "Outstanding work Lieutenant…that was absolutely amazing. Nothing this old Marine ever dreamed he'd do in this or any lifetime." He turned towards a very pleased looking Colonel. "Jump number one for the Battlestar Terra-1 successfully initiated, sir. All sections report condition green." A round of applause swept the CIC, and Saul Tigh stepped down to the tactical station to shake hands with his executive officer, and Lt. Digit who plotted the successful jump.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this was an outstanding jump, and bodes well for the remainder of the shakedown cruise. I commend you all." Tigh sat down and retrieved his hot steaming mug of Cancerian Roast. "Colonel, you may start the weapons testing when ready."

"Helm, bring us within range of the outer rings. Tactical I want you to find me the biggest chunk of space rock out there and lock in a firing solution for the forward-firing bow batteries." The ship's engines propelled the massive warship towards Saturn; its ring system divided into 7 major divisions with alphabetic designators in the order of discovery. From the innermost ring to the outermost ring the designators are D, C, B, A, F, G and E. Each major division is further subdivided into thousands of individual ringlets. The ring found to have the largest particles was the G-ring.

Antonio Digit had located a large fragment of ice and rock that measured a quarter of a kilometer in length within the G-ring. The ship's computer had locked the firing solution awaiting orders to fire. "Target acquired and coordinates locked, XO."

"Four round burst lieutenant…execute!" Four successive bursts erupted from the bow of the ship's main batteries. The projectiles had found their moving target and obliterated it. Next up was the point defense turrets situated on the sides of each flight pod. The helmsman brought the port side of the ship alongside the outer rings and fired a thirty- second round. The entire system is tasked with destroying incoming projectiles or fighters, and the half-minute burst laid waste to the frozen space debris, making small chunks vastly smaller. The procedure was repeated on the starboard side and for the turrets positioned on the underbelly of the Battlestar. Terra-1 may not have been as large as GALACTICA, but she was armed to the teeth and her size made her highly maneuverable.

"Colonel Patton, I believe this would be an appropriate time to test for action stations response!" said Tigh, pulling out a silver-colored digital stopwatch.

"I couldn't agree more, sir. Tactical sound action stations immediately!"

Mark Sarnex had just placed his lunch down onto the table, he was starved and was looking forward to today's chow of Chicken and assorted vegetables. His mind was still swimming over his earlier confrontation with Poseidon when the klaxon sounded.

"ACTION STATIONS…ACTION STATIONS; all personnel man your combat stations. Simulated incoming Cylon Raiders." Came the voice of Antonio Digit over the loud speakers. Personnel flew from their tables and headed for their assigned action station. Mark Sarnex grabbed the hot chicken and two slices of bread off his plate and ran down the hallway making a sandwich. By the time he entered the launch bay he was wiping the remains of his sandwich off his face with his sleeve. As he hopped up into the cockpit the specialist assigned as deck hand to his Viper handed him his helmet. "Looks like poor timing sir." Said the specialist handing Sarnex a rag from his pocket to wipe the remaining chicken off his chin.

"That it was specialist, thanks for the oil soaked rag." said Sarnex regretting instantly that he used it to wipe his mouth. Sealing his canopy shut, he fired up the Voram engines that instantly came to life with a loud high-pitched whine. Red Lancer squadron was scheduled to be on standby this tour, and was first down the tubes. At the other end of the flight pod, three Raptor engines came to life.

The Viper hurtled down the launch tube into the darkness of space, banking into a port side roll Sarnex soon had an incredible view of Saturn and waited on station for the rest of his squadron to clear Terra-1. Within five minutes of action stations every Viper and assigned Raptor were launched. Each squadron leader signaled LT. Digit when all wings were accounted for on station.

"All squadrons launched, XO," reported Digit. Tigh hit a button on the stopwatch freezing the exact time. Five minutes, 17 seconds…not too bad for a raw crew on their first action stations drill thought Tigh. Of course having only a third of the flight compliment a full sized Battlestar would normally have helps with having an expedient launch.

Departments on every deck signaled "at action stations" one by one, Lt. Digit called off each section as they reported in and Tigh kept an eye on his stopwatch. He was pleased with the times, but handing out high praise too early leads to complacency, and there was no room for that in Tigh's command. "Executive Officer, I do believe there is room for improvement in this ship's readiness for action stations!"

"I agree fully Colonel!" barked Patton who spun on his heels in crisp Marine fashion. "Lieutenant Digit, response time to action stations does not meet the Commander's or my satisfaction. We will repeat the drill within the next 6 hours, and I want every swinging dick reporting ready for action stations in less than two minutes!"

"Sir?" asked Digit perplexed. He had become familiar with Earth military slang, but "swinging dick" was a new one. Patton had realized that his description had been lost on the young tactical officer.

"Meaning I want every available _Crewmen_ Lieutenant…_CREWMEN!_" he yelled loudly as Digit winced. "Let's get this ship ready to kick Cylon ass and take names." He followed it up with a wink and a slight smile unseen by anyone else. Digit knew that the times were not bad at all, but the game must be played, and he was sure it was no different in any of Earth's former militaries. He suppressed a chuckle and ordered each station to stand down and resume normal duties. The call for action stations would eventually be called again.

On Earth, Matt Lensherr was saying goodbye to his wife and child. His leave was just about over and he had to return to GALACTICA, and his squadron. D'Anna held their son, she felt sad at her husband's departure. Human emotions were coming much easier than when she had been aboard GALACTICA. Out in space she was a constant reminder as to why the Colonials were on the run, and she was vilified, ignored, feared or mildly tolerated for her well-liked husband's sake.

"Is this what I have to look forward to, seeing my husband off at noisy airfields?" asked D'Anna with an exaggerated air of sadness to her.

"That depends on whether or not you'd care to return to GALACTICA?" came the reply.

"Well even if that was possible now, I don't foresee myself giving up blue skies and a chance at a normal life for our son. Seriously though Matthew, come back safe and in one piece…I love you!" The two had exchanged a long kiss, and Lensherr held his son tightly. "Daddy loves you and will be back, I promise." D'Anna returned to the Humvee that was parked in the designated pilot's parking area. After strapping the car seat into the back, she waited to watch Lensherr's Viper take off. A feeling of dread came over her as she watched her husband climb up into the cockpit.

Prometheus, Lancelot and Aslan who were scheduled to return to GALACTICA from leave would join Lensherr. The four vipers were cleared for launch, and they taxied to their assigned runway.

Lensherr glanced over to the viper on his left and gave thumbs up. "Ready gentlemen?"

"Age before beauty, skipper!" quipped Lancelot as he made a final adjustment to his seat harness.

With a roll of his eyes, and a newly learned Earth hand gesture towards his wing man Lensherr released his brake and accelerated down the runway. The powerful Voram engines lifted the Viper off the tarmac and into the clear blue skies of Nevada. Four recently constructed Colonial Vipers accelerated to escape velocity and made their way for the cold, dark emptiness of space. Their destination was an aging Battlestar stationed high above Earth's moon. Compared to Terra-1, the GALACTICA was a dinosaur…but one that still packed a serious punch. Progress was being made across the spectrum within the new Earth Defense Command. Former enemies now worked hand in hand, though not without some difficulties that has proven stubborn to fully eradicate. A second Mercury class Battlestar was well under construction, with plans being developed for a hybrid Battlestar/Space Carrier that would house over 400 Vipers and Raptors. However, this hybrid carrier was nowhere near finished in design, and further away in its actual construction debut. Orbiting defense platforms were being built in stages around the world, soon to be deployed in Earth orbit, and points beyond as a matter of self-defense in the absence of Battlestars. These platforms could be built far faster and cheaper than a Mercury class Battlestar, and they required no personnel to operate it. These platforms would be operated remotely from Earth Defense Command.

Aslan and Lancelot flanked Hephaestus with Prometheus bringing up the rear. Within a half hour, the GALACTICA came into view. Dee looked up from her screen towards her husband Apollo. "XO I have four Vipers on approach from EDC, transponders correctly identify Hephaestus, Aslan, Prometheus and Lancelot." Apollo stood up from the command chair and walked over to tactical.

"Clear them for landing in the port landing bay, Captain." Dee had taken a rank reduction after the destruction of the PEGASUS and subsequent return to GALACTICA.

"Hephaestus this is GALACTICA, your flight cleared for hands-on approach…proceed to port landing bay."

"Port landing bay…hands-on approach, Hephaestus has the ball." Years of experience had made utilizing maneuvering thrusters on an approach almost second nature to Matt Lensherr. Gliding majestically through the immense portal, the sleek viper touched down gently on its assigned platform where magnetic locks held it firm and descended to the hanger bay. The three remaining vipers followed suit without incident.

Once in the hanger bay, a set of stairs were placed against the nose of the viper. Sliding the canopy forward, Lensherr released his seat harness and unfastened the clamps holding his helmet secure. A deck hand removed the helmet gingerly. Lieutenant Steve Parsec was sitting in the neighboring viper doing a preflight check when Lensherr dismounted.

"Welcome back skipper!"

"You scheduled for patrol, Photon?" asked Lensherr. The answer was in the affirmative and Lensherr departed the hanger bay to return to a cabin he had not seen in close to a year. The trip from the hanger bay to the GALACTICA's brig was much farther than the trip to where the pilots were usually housed. With D'Anna and James now living on Earth, Lensherr would start to remove their remaining items out of the brig/private cabin and to his yet-to-be assigned quarters. First stop would be to report in to the CAG who was off duty and going over some technical manuals in his quarters.

"Captain Lensherr reporting for duty!" said Lensherr walking into the open door of Captain Kara Thrace's quarters.

"Ah, Hephaestus…glad you're finally here. Hope you Fraking enjoyed your vacation on Earth and are ready for some real work!" Lensherr sat down in the chair opposite Starbuck and put his left leg up on the corner of the bunk. He took a package from his flight bag and tossed it over to the CAG. It contained a small rectangular box of premium cigars. "Thanks Hephaestus, I owe you!"

"New quarters will do Kara, I think the old man wants his brig back, and I no longer have need of such spacious accommodations."

"I can put you in with Hotdog or Hannibal; otherwise I'll have to make some reassignments."

"No, don't do that…Put me in with Hotdog. No need to upset already assigned berthing on my account."

"Done! Now get the frak out of here, being CAG comes with its own laundry list of felgercarb to deal with."

CHAPTER 14

Leoben sat in the dark chambers projecting. His eyes scanned the circular room before him; the chair he sat in was atop a six-foot pedestal with two Centurions beneath it. Verbal communication was unnecessary between the human/Cylon models and their robotic inferiors. Leoben had found himself verbalizing his commands more frequently even though the Centurions responded silently to the human ear.

"With every Cavil model destroyed there should be no more rebellion aboard this Base ship. Airlock the remaining bodies!" The two Centurions turned in unison and departed the room through two sliding glass doors. "Lucifer!" he barked. The Cylon appeared instantly and stopped at the base of the pedestal.

"By your command."

"With the Cavils out of the way my control of this ship and its mission will proceed unchallenged. Do you foresee any further problems with the other models?"

"Are you requiring conjecture or fact?" came the smooth, silky voice that betrayed a deadliness experienced only by the late Cavil model.

"I've programmed you for independent thought, Lucifer. If we are to locate the humans, we must think like them. Cavil refused to see the benefit in embracing his human side, and has paid the price for his short-sightedness."

"And what will Cylon Command think about your decision to take Cavil offline permanently?" Leoben's face betrayed no emotion either way at this question.

"Lucifer, there is no Cylon Command here. I am the sole commander of this Basestar, and when the time comes, I will make them all see the truth in my actions. If we are to build a star-spanning empire we cannot do so by collective decision making."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed and slowed their slanted back and fourth motion. "I wasn't aware that a 'star-spanning empire' was a going concern." Leoben had detected the faintest of sarcasm in the reply and smiled.

"In due time, there may very well be the 'Imperious Leader' that Cavil was braying about, bringing the Cylons together. I intend to be that unifying force."

"Do you intend to call for reinforcements or a resurrection ship as we begin to narrow our search in the three sectors that may be harboring the fugitives?"

"For now we will remain the only Cylon force in the system, I will reevaluate our needs as progress is made. That is all."

"By your command!"

Terra-1's entire compliment of vipers was now airborne and practicing combat maneuvers through Saturn's ice rings. Each pilot putting his or her fighter through its paces in the ruggedness of space. Prior to leaving Earth, each viper was put through a grueling atmospheric shakedown test, and now would come the shakedown in the vacuum of space.

Captain Elyssa DeAlma was running a training exercise with the Raptors, and she was not due to interact with the vipers until tomorrow. The Raptor played a crucial part within an attack squadron; they were the early DRADIS warning for the vipers and would direct them to the battle. Today they were fine-tuning their DRADIS to pick out signals that may be camouflaged by large volume of space debris. They were tasked with locating the vipers in Red Lancer squadron as they traversed the rings of Saturn. They did this without the benefit of the vipers utilizing their Colonial transponders, or what would now only be referred to as transponders now that there was no longer a Colonial Military, but a unified Earth command.

"Starburst, Poseidon…You're doing an excellent job, you've successfully picked out six of the ten vipers in Red Lancer squadron. Let's shoot for all ten next round!"

"Easier Fraking said then done!" griped Starburst to her ECO on their private com line. "I'm not quite sure why she's taking a particular interest in me, but it's starting to get on my nerves."

"Maybe she has the hots for you, star." Joked the ECO, never taking his eyes off his DRADIS screen. "The thought of it is…stimulating!"

"Just my luck, not only does she use me for her personal errands aboard Terra-1 now I need to worry about her trying to get into my pants." The two laughed and resumed their duties.

The planet Uranus is the seventh planet from Earth's sun, composed primarily of rock and various ices it lays claim to 21 named moons and 6 unnamed ones. Within the Epsilon ring of the planet, a small craft materializes and drifts. A light begins to glow brightly on the topside. The light is a DRADIS sweep, and the craft is a Cylon Heavy Raider assigned to this space sector in search of the Colonial fleet. It had been converted from troop transport to surveillance craft. The Heavy Raider is not a biomechanical spacecraft like the Raider. Two specially programmed Centurions; one pilot and one operating the DRADIS operate it.

Nightstalker pulled out and away from Saturn's furthest ring, his fighter handling smoothly. No avionics failures or mishaps, he was quite pleased by its performance. He pulled in tight next to Bedlam, awaiting the rest of his air wing to exit the exercise. "What did you think, Rachel?" asked Sarnex over their secure com.

"I have no complaints, my fighter handled perfectly well without one warning alarm; we've yet to have a collision between fighters or between fighter and the larger ring debris. All in all… a good session."

"I'm sure the old man is following the training session, from what I hear so far the ship is handling like a dream. Now all we need is six more Battlestars like that and we could actually call ourselves a real fleet again."

"We'll be there someday, skipper." Replied Bedlam. "What's the rumor about a space carrier being built? I hear that it is expected to hold over 400 vipers. That's a lot of firepower, and the Gods only know how long something like that will take to build."

"Give me a conventional Battlestar any day of the week! That carrier is in the design stage at this point, and years away from actually being built at this rate." Werewolf squadrons had formed up, and were heading back to Terra-1, this was a good training day and Mark Sarnex was pleased with his squadron's results.

Raptor 4 was assigned to patrol with two vipers from Omega squadron on this day. The pilot was an Earth officer; Lieutenant Peter Moreau whose call sign was Headcase. They were at the halfway point between Saturn and Uranus and prepared to return to the ship when the ECO spoke up.

"Captain, I just picked up a faint signal coming from sector 2. I'd swear it was a DRADIS signal."

"Could it be residual from either Viper?" he asked with concern.

"Negative, they are well behind us, and it is definitely not their DRADIS, this is a fairly potent signal in strength."

"Have we been painted?"

"Unsure, it is on a rotating sweep I would guess due to the brevity I was able to pick it up." Head case was cautious, and while he never confronted the Cylons, he would take no chances.

"Signal Terra-1, inform them that we are going to continue on this track to investigate a possible contact." Head case accelerated towards Uranus, the two Vipers moved in closer positioning themselves on port and starboard sides of the Raptor.

Aboard Terra-1 Lieutenant Antonio Digit had relayed Raptor 4's message to the executive officer who instinctively set the Battlestar at condition 2 throughout the ship and notified the commanding officer who was in his quarters at the moment. "Sir I'm placing the ship on condition 2 alert status, Raptor 4 is currently investigating a possible contact in the vicinity of Uranus."

"Very well XO, I'm on the way up." Replied Tigh fastening his collar.

Colonel Patton sat down in the command chair and turned to his tactical officer. "Lieutenant Digit, ascertain fuel status of all our birds immediately."

"Aye sir!" Replied Digit as he opened a secure frequency to the airborne Vipers. "Squadron Leaders, Terra-1…please advise on current fuel status of your squadrons." Vampire, Bloodbath and Nightstalker had ordered all wings to sound off with their fuel loads over each assigned frequency. In turn, each squadron leader reported his squadron's fuel status back to Digit who in turn relayed it to the XO.

"Commander on deck!" shouted the executive officer as he saw Tigh walk into the CIC. He vacated the seat and Tigh had motioned everyone to remain at ease.

"Commander has the deck …Sitrep XO!"

"Raptor 4 is on long range patrol with Viper 222 and 116; they are investigating a possible contact in the vicinity of Uranus. We have all three squadrons in the air on shakedown cruises and are roughly halfway through their maximum fuel load."

"Lieutenant Digit, inform the pilots that they are to land immediately for refueling and rearming if necessary. I want Werewolf squadron to remain on standby while the other two squadrons come in to be fueled. Helm…bring us on course two, two four, I want to close the gap between us and our fighters and be ready to get to Uranus if needed at a moment's notice."

"Aye Colonel, course two, two four."

Over the next hour, Vipers rearmed, refueled and were loaded into the launch tubes with instructions that the pilots remain at their fighters until further notice. Captain Elyssa DeAlma was back on board and pacing before her Raptor has the deck crew refueled it.  
"Frak, the last thing we need is some wet-behind-the-ear Earther trying to sniff out a possible Cylon contact. What is Tigh thinking? They should have us out there, Hustler…there is no substitute for experience!" Hustler winced at the "Earther" comment, members of the deck gang and other Raptor teams were comprised of their brothers and sisters from the 13th colony, and he was sure they did not appreciate Poseidon's comments.

"Easy boss, Headcase is a trained Raptor pilot and will do just fine."

DeAlma shot a sideways glance towards her ECO. "You have far greater faith in them than I do, my friend. Time will tell how good they are, I'm not impressed with class rankings as I am with actual combat experience."

Headcase had drifted for a little over 2 hours; he had ordered the Vipers to power down to conserve power allowing the occasional use of thrusters to remain together. They were using a passive DRADIS sweep to avoid being picked up by whatever may have been out there. "Anything?" he asked his ECO.

"Nothing yet sir, I have adjusted….standby….picking something up, very faint." The ECO adjusted his controls and his eyes widened as he locked onto the contact. "CONTACT…..is bearing 124, distance…18.2."

"Identify!" snapped Headcase as he started to power up the Raptor.

"OH FRAK….Cylon heavy raider, Cylon heavy raider…war book positively identifies."

"Shit!" muttered Head case as he opened a COM link to his escorts from Omega squadron. "Heads up boys, we have a Cylon Heavy Raider in the vicinity, we picked him up on passive, but we have to assume he's got us painted. Power up and arm weapons!" Head case dialed up the secure frequency to Terra-1 when the contact disappeared from the DRADIS.

"He's gone, the Turkey has bugged out!" yelled the ECO.

"Terra-1, Raptor 4 with an emergency transmission, over."

"Raptor 4 this is Terra-1 go ahead with your message."

"Cylon Heavy Raider positively identified in vicinity of Uranus, he jumped away before we could engage, instructions?"

This was the type of message that Tigh feared, but it was one that they knew would eventually be transmitted. They had avoided the Cylons for almost two years, and he was relieved that they were not any closer to Earth. Perhaps there was a chance to lead them off.

"XO set alert condition 1 throughout the ship, execute!" The klaxon blared as the executive officer called Action Stations throughout the ship over a wired transmitter. "Lieutenant Digit, send a coded message to GALACTICA and Earth Defense Command, inform them that we have located and confirmed a Cylon reconnaissance craft within range of Uranus. We will be making a jump to that location, and will take necessary steps to intercept the enemy, and lead them away if possible.

Raptor 4 furiously scanned the sector with active DRADIS sweeps; the viper escorts had spread out and were on alert for anything. Headcase reacted with lightning speed when the Basestar materialized immediately before him.

"Contact….Cylon Basestar dead ahead; we are well within weapons range, Lieutenant!"

"Reversing course, alert the Vipers to bug out, we need to get some breathing room here." Ordered Headcase as he executed a stomach-churning roll and kicked in the turbos. Cylon Raiders launched from the Basestar and were on an intercept course. Pilots did not man the raiders, these were biomechanical constructs that had the advantage of being able to be launched with only seconds worth of advanced notice. They were closing.

Viper 222 and 116 took up defensive positions alongside the Raptor as they streaked away from the looming Basestar and incoming raiders. "Head case, Deadshot we're not going to make it back to base showing them our asses. We can't jump, but you can…get the Frak out of here and warn the ship, we'll try and hold them off." Headcase knew that was suicide, but Deadshot was correct, vipers were not equipped with FTL drives and would have to stay and fight, or continue to run. His job was to jump back to Terra-1 immediately to warn her. The taste of bile soured his mouth as he swallowed hard and looked out at the Viper on his port side. "Message received Deadshot; I'll go get the Calvary, don't do anything stupid, try and stay ahead of them." Said Headcase weakly.

"My DRADIS is counting 40 raiders and growing, two vipers going against those numbers don't strike me as the decision of a genius." Laughed Deadshot as he snapped a salute towards Raptor 4.

With one last glance towards the Vipers, Headcase jumped away to warn Terra-1. He felt miserable, he knew they would not last long if they fought, and they were below half in their fuel load.

Aboard the GALACTICA Lt. Gaeta was decoding the transmission from Terra-1. His eyes widened and he spun around quickly in her chair. "Admiral, coded message from Terra-1, their recon patrol has encountered Cylon Heavy Raider in vicinity of the planet Uranus…Terra-1 preparing to jump to that location on an intercept course and to lead the Cylons away from this sector if necessary."

All eyes were on Adama; his face usually an emotionless mask, now displayed a mixture of shock and resignation. After all this time, the Cylons have finally found them. He knew that Uranus was far out there, and that they had a slim chance of leading them away from Earth. The Cylons were not stupid however; he knew that the moment the Cylons spotted a brand new Mercury Class Battlestar they would realize that we had help in constructing it, and they knew we were searching for Earth, the traitorous Baltar saw to it that they had enough information to put the pieces together.

"Tactical…plot a direct jump to Uranus. XO sound action stations, I want every viper ready to roll down the tubes the moment we arrive on station." Apollo picked up a transmitter and sounded action stations. Crewmembers throughout the massive warship scrambled to their assigned stations. Pilots grabbed their helmets and pressure suits and ran for their star fighters. Gaeta prepared the complex task of making a faster-than-light space jump from Earth's moon to Uranus.

Matthew Lensherr had just finished loading the remaining personal items remaining in his former living quarters when the call for Action Stations sounded. He dropped the box on the floor and took off for the launch bay. He met up with Kara Thrace who was just pulling a duty shirt on over her tee shirt as she ran out of her the ship's gymnasium. She was soaked in sweat and her hair was an out of control mess. "Looking good Kara, I like the hair!"

"You would! This is just what I need, jumping into a cockpit for Gods only know how long sweaty and smelling like a wet daggit." Kara Thrace was now the squadron leader for Blue squadron, and on a private level was looking forward to enemy action. It had been almost two years since she fired a shot in anger, and the old familiar adrenalin rush was coming back to her at the sound of the Klaxon. GALACTICA's air wing was at full strength for the first time since just before the Cylon attack on the Colonies. Five squadrons containing 20 Vipers each constitute a complete air wing. One hundred Mark II Vipers fresh off the assembly line were now aboard a Battlestar long considered obsolete when compared to Mercury class Battlestars. The GALACTICA carried a maximum fuel and munitions load, and she was ready for mayhem.

Raptor 4 appeared on Digit's DRADIS off the port bow and was coming in fast; a request for priority landing was requested and immediately granted. Colonel Patton made his way to the landing bay to meet Raptor 4's crew. Patton still worked out to the standards held to an 18-year-old raw recruit in Marine basic training, at his age he was in far better shape then men more than half his age. He double timed it down the corridors and decks without breaking a sweat and entered the landing bay as Raptor 4 was lowered down from the upper deck. He straightened his tunic and stood patiently. Headcase and his ECO stepped out, and upon seeing the XO waiting for them quickly made their way over.

"Sitrep Headcase, and put a set o' wings on it boy!" barked Patton. The ECO looked very confused, but Headcase being a former Army officer was well aware of Marine jargon.

"Sir, we picked up a possible contact in upper Uranus orbit and crawled in to investigate with passive DRADIS., my guess is that the turkey picked us up about the same time and jumped away to warn their Baseship before our escorts could take it out. It was not long until a Cylon Basestar jumped on top of us. We bugged out and I jumped ahead to warn the ship before communications were jammed." Patton could see the pained expression in the young pilot's face, nobody wanted to leave anyone behind with an overwhelming enemy force bearing down on them. Headcase had made the correct decision, he himself knew that, but it did not alleviate the pangs of guilt and anger he had building inside him. Patton put a hand on his shoulder.

"Peter, rest easy…you made an extremely difficult decision, but it was the correct decision, the only choice. Don't worry, you'll get a crack at those bastards…we're jumping to that location any moment."

"Aye sir and thank you." Snapping out a crisp salute, Moreau waited for Patton to return it before turning on his heel to oversee the immediate refueling of his Raptor. Patton contacted the CIC to inform Tigh of his conversation with Raptor 4's crew, the countdown for the jump would commence in five minutes, and he quickly hung up and ran for the CIC. His place was there once the battle would commence.

Deadshot's viper was working overtime to avoid the relentless barrage of fire from the pursuing Raiders, he and Viper 116 piloted by Lieutenant Jason Merrick were doing their best to stay ahead of. Merrick, whose call sign was Showtime, was just as creative in avoiding getting his Viper blasted out of the cosmos. This running was starting to make them angry, but they knew to turn and fight would be suicide.

"Deadshot, Showtime…I'm getting tired of showing them my ass."

"Hang in there Showtime, Headcase will bring help!" Moreau knew how hollow that sounded, they were in it deep and both knew it. They were low on fuel and running hard on full battle thrusters. He would rather turn and fight, take out a few toasters and die for his effort than run until he ran out of fuel and destroyed like a piece of drifting space debris. A DRADIS warning sounded loudly.

"DRADIS contact ten o'clock…distance 14.8. Colonial transponder identifies as Terra-1!" yelled Showtime over the comline.

"Turn and burn Showtime make for home!" ordered Deadshot as Raider fire glanced off his port wing. The Cylons were gaining and there was still a good distance between the Vipers and the safety of Terra-1.

"Jump complete Colonel." announced Digit as he waited for the first new DRADIS sweep of the immediate area. "Incoming spacecraft…the first two are ours with at least 80 Raiders in pursuit."

"Launch the fighters immediately; we've got two of our own out there under armed attack." Snapped Tigh. "Helm, bring us on an intercept course with incoming Cylon attack force, execute. Weapons bring all batteries online, I want a heavy flack curtain between them and our landing bay…execute!" Tigh rattled off commands in crisp and concise tones. The two Viper pilots would know to get below the Battlestar's engagement zone at the right moment leaving whatever unlucky pursuer to run full force into a curtain of death.

Mark Sarnex was the first pilot down the launch tube, his Viper exploding out of the flight pod at blinding speed. The remainder of Werewolf squadron was hot on his six as Vipers from Red Lancer and Omega squadrons took to space. Each squadron's Raptor was also immediately airborne to guide their fighters into the battle. With two of their Vipers almost out of fuel and running for their lives, the remaining compliment of 28 Mark II Vipers prepared to go toe to toe with the incoming armada.

"Nightstalker, Poseidon…incoming Cylon attack force closing fast, it looks like only one Basestar judging by the numbers."

"Message received Poseidon, make sure you keep your distance Elyssa…they no doubt are picking up an unknown Battlestar on their DRADIS and will ignore us and go in after her. We will take out what we can, and Terra-1's batteries will take care of the rest. I want cover given to Deadshot and Showtime; they've got to be bingo fuel by now." Ordered Nightstalker.

"Vampire, Nightstalker…bring your squadron in from sector two, let's see if we can hit em from both sides high and low with Bloodbath coming in from sector 3." The two squadrons peeled off in different directions and started their attack. A firing lock warning blared through Showtime's cockpit, he had two Cylons in close and could feel glancing shots hitting the fuselage. His port engine took a direct hit ripping it wide open; the entire fighter shook violently as he fought to maintain his direct track for Terra-1, which was now coming within eyesight.

"Krypter…Krypter…Krypter, this is Showtime I've taken a hit to my port engine, losing speed requesting emergency approach." Captain Dillon Ramsey pressed his thruster pedal to the firewall trying to get in close to Showtime's position, the raiders were on top of him, and he only had seconds left.

"Hold on Showtime, we're almost there!" yelled Ramsey over the comline. Too late, another devastating round of Raider fire blew everything from the rear of the cockpit on back wide open. Showtime was still strapped into his seat that was now floating aimlessly through space devoid of his fighter. He was still alive thanks to his pressurized flight suit, and had no doubt a Raptor would come in to get him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the approaching Raider, he gasped and his mouth opened to scream when the Cylon attack craft struck him at full speed. Showtime was a bloody smear across the wing of the Raider, his body liquefied by the impact.

The EDC transponder blinked then disappeared from the DRADIS of every Viper on the battlefield and aboard Terra-1. Viper 116 was destroyed; Showtime was the first casualty of Cylon aggression in over two years.

"Viper 222, Terra-1 you are instructed to make a port side combat landing immediately. What is your fuel status?" inquired Lt. Digit.

"Terra-1 this is Viper 222; I am bingo fuel, repeat Bingo fuel. Message received for combat landing in port landing bay." Replied Deadshot, his voice choked with emotion at the loss of his wingman. A crimson viper streaked across Deadshot's thruster wash firing its cannons, which found their mark dead center on the closest pursuing raider. On Earth, Lieutenant Anghard Beynon, call sign Branwen was a former Nimrod 2000 pilot assigned to 206 Squadron, RAF Kinloss. She was of Welsh descent and spoke with a thick brogue. Branwen means "Beautiful Raven" in Welsh, and Anghard Beynon was indeed beautiful with a short-cropped bob of black hair. She had green eyes and a tattoo of a Welsh Dragon on her lower back. She was one of the few women to fly the Maritime Reconnaissance & Attack (MRA) Mark 4 craft and was widely respected by her peers. She quickly volunteered for Viper school when the opportunity arrived and graduated first in her class. She was assigned to Red Lancer squadron, and was fast becoming one of Vampire's favorite pilots.

"Up yur arses you tin plated sguthan!" cried Beynon as she blasted the Raider to pieces. She barrel rolled hard over and positioned herself tight on Deadshot's five o'clock position high. "Okay luv, lets land the beastie post haste before you sputter out on fumes, I've got your sizable arse covered!"

"Thanks Branwen, you Red Lancers are ok!" said Deadshot as he lined himself up on final approach to the Battlestar.

"Damned straight we are at that, now concentrate on getting beneath the engagement zone, there are too many Raiders getting through due to our being outnumbered so badly, and we don need anymore deaths!" Deadshot skirted the massive wall of flak put up by Terra-1 and brought his fuel-starved viper in for a landing while Branwen returned to the battle, her mission to get viper 222 safely aboard successful.

Saul Tigh had been in many battles with the Cylons in his long career, as executive officer of the GALACTICA he had squared off against the immense Basestars on numerous occasions post Holocaust. This time he was in command, the decisions and repercussions would be his alone. His fighters were heavily outnumbered, and he had hoped to even the odds a little with anti-aircraft batteries while awaiting help from Earth. The Basestar was closing fast, almost in weapons range of Terra-1's main batteries.

"Cylon Basestar approaching our maximum weapons range, Commander. We are now within their effective firing range." Reported tactical. They were at a disadvantage this far out, while they were now within range of the Basestar's weaponry, which could inflict heavy damage, the Cylons were just entering the absolute maximum range of Terra-1's batteries. This far out the much larger Cylon warship could evade or shrug off some direct fire.

"Hold your fire on the Cylon Basestar, let's let them in closer." Said Tigh. "We have speed and maneuverability on our side."

Aboard the Basestar, Leoben had monitored the command room from his solitary chambers. He resisted the urge to enter the command room himself, remaining high atop his perch. Doral had opened up a cybernetic link with him. "Our DRADIS is picking up a warship in this sector; it has launched vipers but emits no Colonial transponder."

"It isn't the GALACTICA?"

"Negative, our scans indicate a much smaller vessel, it has engaged our raiders."

"Bring us to within visual range, Doral. I want to see this warship for myself." The Basestar had maintained its course straight for Terra-1, and was closing fast. The area around the Battlestar was a latticework of death; the far superior numbered Raiders were cutting vipers to pieces.

"Terra-1, Nightstalker…we are getting cut to pieces out here, any word on reinforcements?"

Tigh knew the battle was not going well for his Vipers, they were too badly outnumbered and the Raiders were moving in on individual Vipers like a wolf pack against a larger prey. Until help could arrive, he was going to have to take the fight to the Basestar, a tactic that would not probably be anticipated by the Cylons. They were most likely confused by the presence of an unknown Battlestar. "Helm, increase speed to maximum, lets close the gap between us and that Basestar. Tactical, order our remaining Vipers to disengage the raiders and concentrate on that Basestar. Prepare to fire main batteries on my order."

Lucifer had appeared at the base of the pedestal when Doral's report came in. "We are in visual range of a Mercury Class Battlestar; however this vessel is more than half the size of a Colonial Battlestar of any class."

"And where might the Colonial fleet have procured another Battlestar in less than two years?" said Leoben almost in a whisper. Lucifer's audio receivers had heard the question and set his mechanical brain to finding a possible answer, one that came instantly.

"It is obvious that they've had assistance in this star system, perhaps they've found Earth?" There was no longer time for further discussion, Terra-1 had launched a full spread from their forward batteries, and the much larger warship was sluggish in evading the incoming fire and took several direct hits with minimal damage. Simon quickly assessed damage to the Basestar. "Very minor damage inflicted on decks 12 through 14." The Raiders immediately broke off their pursuit of the Vipers and engaged Terra-1. The ship took a withering barrage from the Raiders but continued to press their attack on the Basestar.

A blinding flash caught most of the Viper pilots off guard, the immediate vicinity filled with the unmistakable underside of the GALACTICA; she had made her FTL jump from the vicinity of Earth's moon straight to Uranus. She materialized off Terra-1's port bow and her momentum was taking her straight towards the incoming Cylon Basestar on a collision course.

"Jump completed…."Lieutenant Felix Gaeta's voice rarely contained any trace of emotion when he performed his duties as tactical officer. He relayed information in a calm and measured manner and Adama could never recall him raising his voice. "OH FRAK…Cylon Basestar dead ahead, we've jumped almost on top of her." Yelled Gaeta. Adama glanced at the tactical screen; a secondary monitor displayed a fast closing Cylon Basestar heading straight for them.

"All Back Full!" commanded Adama bolting upright from his command chair. The helmsmen carried out the order immediately, but the ship was not reacting fast enough.

"GALACTICA not responding fast enough Admiral…she's too close." Yelled the helmsmen as the ship lurched at the sudden velocity change. Adama reevaluated and reacted in seconds.

"Evasive starboard…prepare for incoming fire on port side. Execute! Weapons I want a full salvo launched from the port-side batteries, let's keep them off balance and shoot down anything they are able to get off at us." The ship lurched to the right to avoid a collision, and as Adama expected, the Cylons reacted immediately with missile fire towards the GALACTICA.

"Incoming ordinance!" said Gaeta, much more calmly now. The portside batteries threw up a curtain of heavy flak, intercepting several of the incoming missiles. One succeeded in getting through, striking amidships above the flight pod that was now starting to extend out in order to launch vipers.

"Direct hit to the portside."

"Damage control!" replied Patton.

Tigh was taken aback by the sudden appearance of GALACTICA; this was a one in a million occurrence that a Battlestar would come out of a jump on a collision course. Normally a jump is meticulously planned by the tactical officer, there was no way he could have predicted that the Cylon ship would be moving at such a rate of speed within the very airspace they were planning to jump to.

"Weapons, lets give the GALACTICA a chance to launch her fighters and get to a safer location. Launch another spread." The main batteries thundered as the Cylon ship took another hit, this time from a much closer location. The damage was not minimal. Terra-1 was repaid with a blistering counterattack from the Basestar, followed up by numerous hits from the Raiders that were swarming all over her.

The executive officer was beginning to notice a pattern to the Raider attacks. "Sir, incoming attack craft are targeting the flight pods, I have extensive damage to tubes 4-7." Reported Patton, his eyes never coming off the damage control monitors.

GALACTICA's flight pods were now fully extended, and soon Vipers were exploding from their launch tubes and entering the fray. Raptor one piloted by Captain Nina Nintius had positioned herself on the far side of the GALACTICA with a birds eye view of the field of battle. She would be guiding Blue squadron through the battle. "Eagleone this is Betty, you have a toaster three o'clock low making a run on GALACTICA's dorsal battery…take him out!"

Captain Kara Thrace was the first to clear GALACTICA's tubes when she gave pursuit to two Raiders. The first raider had evaded her first volley, but caught the second full force and exploded. Starbuck had successful flown through the debris field and immediately searched for the second Raider. "Excellent shot Starbuck; let's show these guys how a female pilot does the job!"

"Way ahead of you Betty, it's been too Fraking long since I've been able to put a real Cylon raider in my gun sights."

Falcon had angled his viper behind a Raider that had just blown a Viper apart as it exited its launch tube. The squadron leader of Hunter Seeker squadron clenched his teeth as he watched the viper blow apart, he thought he had seen the upper part of the pilot drifting away in the cold, unforgiving region of space. The raider drifted in and out of his sights, leading him on a chase over the top of GALACTICA's engines. He squeezed off a few rounds that struck a glancing blow against the top of the raider. In an unexpected move, the raider flipped over and was now facing Falcon firing its own weapons that Bastain gracefully avoided. The two passed by each other dangerously close. Reversing his thrust, Falcon double backs toward the raider who was now in the process of turning. The top half of the raider was left wide open and Falcon lights him up.

Silver Spar squadron was last out of the tubes, and Matt Lensherr was hell bent of making up for lost time. His viper had roared across the open skies with Hotdog, Aslan and Prometheus in tight formation beside him. "Let's get into the fight boys, stick with your wingman and kick some Cylon ass." Hephaestus and Hotdog rolled left, Aslan, and Prometheus rolled right, the fighting was getting intense and GALACTICA had positioned herself well off the Basestar's three o'clock position and high.

Adama had opened a secure frequency to Terra-1; Tigh had come on the line immediately. "Commander we can't let that ship jump away, they've seen you and the cats out of the bag now. They will immediately realize that we have built a new Battlestar that could only have been made possible by a planet with resources and infrastructure to do so. When they scan this star system, they'll take the knowledge they gleaned from Baltar and determine that Earth is close by."

"I concur Admiral. The Basestar will have to be destroyed immediately." Replied Tigh.

"Raptor three, GALACTICA…you are instructed to establish a jamming field to prevent communications from the Basestar. Raptors four and two will be dispatched to extend the zone, we need to prevent the Basestar from jumping, or sending out a distress signal." Lieutenant Jenna St. Lynn knew the drill; she positioned her Raptor close to the Basestar, but out of its weapons range. Her ECO ran his fingers across the keyboard and a jamming field was soon active, preventing Cylon transmission, but allowing Colonial and Earth transmission.

Terra-1 had taken a direct hit on her port flight pod, the damage was significant, and the much larger Basestar was bearing down on the much smaller ship. Heavy dorsal cannons zeroed in on the looming Basestar and opened fire with a blistering attack, the center axis took the brunt of the fire.

Leoben was now in the command center, Lucifer standing off to the side as the ship shuttered under the assault. Simon had been monitoring the progress of the battle. "The smaller Battlestar is inflicting minimal to moderate damage on us. She is fast and her maneuverability makes it difficult to target it. Raptors have installed a jamming field on all sides of us, and GALACTICA is coming about for another pass."

Leoben had gazed out to the center of the room. "The fools! I do not intend to call for help, at least not now. Show the insects what we think of their jamming field, recall our raiders at once and prepare to jump."

Lt. Dennis Walker, call sign Prometheus had his viper at full battle thrusters, he was giving pursuit to a trio of Raiders. Aslan was on his port wing and high, staying in close. His cannon fire found its mark on the engine nacelle of the closest raider. Prometheus avoided the debris field and bore down on the remaining two raiders in his sights. As he pulled the trigger, the two raiders banked hard right and retreated to the Basestar.

"Admiral, the Raiders are returning to the Basestar!" informed Gaeta.

"Frak, they punched right through our jamming field to issue their recall. We can't let them jump out of here, signal Terra-1 to press their attack, Helm bring us in close enough to do some damage."

Nightstalker had seen the raiders retreat, prior to GALACTICA's arrival the squadrons were directed to engage the Basestar, but their numbers were reduced even further by the murderous anti-aircraft batteries throughout the Basestar. Seventeen Vipers from the Battlestar Terra-1 would not be returning from battle this day. He had lost slightly more than half of the fighters assigned to the Battlestar, good friends and pilots he would never see again. His stomach was in knots, he was soon knocked back to reality by the blasts going off around his fighter. This Basestar was bigger than any they had previously encountered, their engagement zone was lethal and he was about to enter it. Pulling back on the stick, he plunged the thruster pedal to the firewall and ascended over the top of the curtain of death. Before he could do anything, the Basestar disappeared.

"Admiral the Basestar has jumped away!" said Apollo with a hint of dread in his voice. Everyone in GALACTICA's CIC as well as those in Terra-1's knew the significance of the Cylon's retreat. While they may not know Earth's location exactly, they knew the star system it was in by the presence of two colonial Battlestars when there should only be one.

"XO, get our birds back on board immediately, I want them refueled, rearmed and back in the tubes. Get Tigh on a secure line and get a damage report, I want that relayed to EDC on a secured channel!" ordered a very unhappy Adama.

The recall order was issued and vipers were coming in on both decks of both ships to be refueled and rearmed. Nightstalker was seething as he exited his cockpit, seventeen pilots killed on the first combat mission in two years. Ten of those pilots were from Earth, it was to be expected that their lack of experience would be an issue, but Mark Sarnex still found it unacceptable. He immediately made his way over to Vampire, and they awaited the arrival of Bloodbath who would have to travel from the other side of the ship.

"Seventeen pilots, Ken….SEVENTEEN!" said Sarnex keeping his voice low and emotions in check. "I lost six, you lost seven and Omega squadron lost four. We took a Fraking beating out there our first time out."

"Mark, we had a lot of nuggets out there with us…first time flying in space never mind going toe to toe with an overwhelming Cylon attack force. I'm surprised we didn't lose more of our new pilots!" Nightstalker knew he was right, but it did not make the bitter pill easier to swallow.

"They've found us, and now they'll be back with an even larger attack force."

Bloodbath who was now catching the tail end of the conversation was quick to chime in. "Well you always knew that would be a possibility, now that day is here and we need to be prepared, and replace those lost fighters."

"I'm heading up to the CIC now to report to the XO, I don't foresee any problems getting a temporary transfer from GALACTICA, she's at full strength now." Replied Sarnex. After some quick instructions to his ASL, Mark Sarnex made his way to the CIC. As he ascended decks, he noticed the damage control teams hard at work. Terra-1's first time in combat went remarkably well for a much less powerful ship than a Cylon Basestar. She went head to head, and landed a few good shots. Upon entering the CIC, he was immediately greeted by Colonel Patton who was studying the status board.

"Ah Captain Sarnex, glad to see you back safely, my condolences on the loss of your pilots…they put up one hell of a fight!" offered the XO as he walked up to Nightstalker.

"Thank you Colonel, Vampire and Bloodbath are supervising the refuel and reload operations, and we'll be ready for action in no time!" replied Sarnex. "Sir, will we be able to replace our lost fighters with temporary transfers from GALACTICA?"

"The old man is working on that as we speak; we have extensive damage done to launch tubes four through seven on the port pod, with the possibility of bringing tube seven back online within 5 to 6 hours. Besides the 17 pilots we have 8 casualties, and 22 injured, the most serious being a broken arm from being tossed against a bulkhead during one of the missile impacts." Said Patton solemnly.

At this time, Tigh was on a direct scrambled line with GALACTICA's C.O. giving him a status report on ship damage and casualties.

"Admiral, the damage to the port flight pod will require time-intensive repair, though the deck and maintenance chiefs concur that tube 7 can be brought back online sometime in the next 5 to 6 hours. In addition to some minor deck breaches in the less shielded sections the ship is in high operational condition." Reported Tigh. The loss of life was the first thing reported, and Adama knew what Tigh was feeling, he had lost personnel many times, and it never got easier to accept.

"Saul, I'm temporarily transferring fighters to replace those lost in battle, and EDC has been alerted to the situation… all forces are on high alert."

"Thank you, Admiral. We are currently undergoing refueling ops for the fighters, and will be remaining at condition one until further notice."

"The pyramid ball is now in play Commander, the Cylons know what sector we're in, and they now know we've had help constructing a new warship. There is no doubt that they will determine that we have either located Earth, or found a habitable world in this system. It won't take them long to find the one planet in the solar system that can sustain life."

"Thank you for the fresh fighters Bill…I appreciate it." The transmission ended and Tigh stepped down to where Sarnex and Patton were still talking.  
"Captain Sarnex, your wings did an incredible job facing the odds they did…good job!" said Tigh knowing the pain that the young Captain was feeling.

"Thank you sir, the chrome-plated Fraks won't know what hit them next time…we've taken their measure, and Terra-1 proved more than capable." Tigh smiled at his subordinate's enthusiasm, he could sense that Nightstalker was seeking a rematch with the Cylons, but knew that the next time the Cylons appeared they would come en masse. The next battle would not be easy, two Battlestars could not hold off the Cylon Empire.

"We'll be getting in replacements from GALACTICA soon, Captain. Please assign a detail to secure the belongings of our lost pilots, and to make room for the incoming ones. We're remaining at condition one, so the inventory of their belongings will be done as time allows."

"Aye sir." Sarnex came to attention and saluted. He turned on his heel and made his way back to the flight pod. As he rounded a corner near the officer's quarters, he bumped into Poseidon.

"Hello Elyssa, good job out there today."

"Thanks, too bad we lost so many nuggets though…their lack of experience was their Achilles heel."

"Elyssa, we've all been inexperienced at some point, many of those Earth pilots were combat veterans in their own right, they're flying a star fighter in outer space during combat for the first time, for Frak's sake give them a break, will you?"

"Is that your philosophy Nightstalker, coddle them? These nuggets got a reality check today, and will have to fight a little harder if they want to be viper pilots."

Sarnex turned angrily towards his Raptor pilot. "Coddling? Are you listening to yourself? What is going on with you, Elyssa? They replace your heart with a microprocessor or something?"

"No Captain, I'm the only one who realizes that we're facing the business end of a death warrant served by the toasters for the second time. We cannot afford to be soft, and understanding. We need to train those people to be ruthless!" said DeAlma with a sneer.

"Those people?" said Sarnex with a raised eyebrow. "What people would those be…last time I checked they were just as human as we are."

"Mark…you need to be a 'leader!' The Cylons are out to destroy us, and we cannot afford one slip up. That Basestar should never have been allowed to escape; you know they'll be back with reinforcements!"

"I AM a leader, Elyssa!" said Sarnex angrily. "We aren't Capricans, Aerilonians, Picons or Colonials…we're one human race, and we depend as much on them as they now do on us. The faster you lose this attitude the less stressed you'll be!"

An odd smile crept across Elyssa DeAlma's face, one that immediately unsettled Mark Sarnex. "I'm not stressed at all, Nightstalker…I'm being a realist, something you should try before you get your pretty little face blown up in that fighter of yours." With that, she walked away leaving Mark Sarnex shaking his head.

CHAPTER 15

Sitting high in his command chair, Leoben stared down at the humanoid Cylon models beneath him. A six series Cylon was first to speak, her shoulder length blond hair stood out against the black jumpsuit she was wearing. Cavil was the primary threat to his supremacy aboard the Basestar, and that threat was extinguished before it could gain momentum. Of all the humanoid models, the Six was the least predictable to Leoben, therefore the most dangerous.

"There is no other conclusion other than the Colonials are receiving assistance in this star system, whether or not that assistance is from Earth is unknown. What is known is that in the span of two years they have been able to construct a Mercury-class Battlestar, and at least four full squadrons of fighters."

"She's right!" began Doral. "There is no way Adama could have acquired those resources without help. We know for a fact that there were no Viper production facilities within the fleet as late as two years ago when they attacked and pillaged our outpost."

"You mean their attack that was made possible by the treachery of a rogue three model?" said Leoben, his voice echoing across the chamber. He was referring to D'Anna Biers, the three series that was in charge of the outpost. Before that outpost's Leoben was destroyed, he had sent out a coded message to the nearest Basestar to give a report on what was transpiring. The sent message was a last resort that he never expected would be received, and he was soon destroyed, unable to download into a new body. The message was received by a passing Basestar in search of the renegade fleet, and all they knew was that the Cylon in charge of the outpost had collaborated with the enemy, and was acting against her programming. The Cylon model known as D'Anna Biers was boxed until it could be determined where the malfunction originated.

"So it was reported." Replied Doral. "That new Battlestar inflicted moderate damage on the ship, and we lost 15% of our raider compliment. On its own the ship is not a match for the power of this Basestar, we can compensate for their speed advantage. However, there is a serious threat when its might is combined with the GALACTICA's."

"That pitiful pile of scrap metal!" boomed Leoben. "How it escaped the initial assault is beyond belief, and worse is the fact that they've evaded us for this long. I cannot fathom how an obsolete Battlestar has managed to last this long with our entire fleet pursuing it."

Simon stood with his hands folded behind his back. The scientist in him was forever studying the information presented to him, and Leoben was providing a wealth of material to study, his creation of this chamber, the elevated platform, the murder of Cavil by his creation Lucifer, and his self-appointed leadership of the Basestar. He was going to be an interesting study. "Do you propose to call for assistance?" asked Simon.

The chamber remained silent, as if Leoben was contemplating the question. His eyes shone like small suns as he peered down at the gathered Cylons. "No Simon! We have tracked the fugitives this far without assistance from Cylon; I don't see a need to share the thrill of running down the prey and its final destruction."

"Thrill?" asked a number eight.

"Sharon, we are not machines! Can you not feel it in the part of you that is human? We were the next step in Cylon evolution, the pinnacle of technology… an organic model that is indistinguishable from the humans. I concluded that collective thinking was destroying our potential, my perspective has increased a hundred fold, and I intend to locate Earth myself. There are models such as Cavil that would like to see the humans completely extinguished from the Cosmos, I on the other hand would like to see them subjugated…under us."

"We weren't very successful on New Caprica, and that was with 39,192 humans. I can only speculate that Earth contains a much higher population." Interjected Simon.

"Simon, we are the most technologically-advanced and most powerful civilization in the universe, how long do you think we can be held off? I will find Earth, and when that time comes I will summon our forces, but not before I have consolidated my power throughout our…empire. That is something that is taking place at various levels as we speak."

The six model understood what Leoben was talking about, her own feelings were chaotic and she too realized that her human side was overpowering her Cylon programming. She never believed the humans should have been destroyed, and her beliefs were closer to Leoben's than either could have imagined.

"The Basestar is almost completely repaired; however we cannot replace the lost Raiders." Informed Doral.

"That won't matter for the moment. Send out a heavy raider and escort to return to that sector to enact a long-range scan of the system. I want to know what is out there."

The room was soon emptied, and Leoben returned to his projections.

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:  
****  
We have finally had our long-feared and long-anticipated reunion with the Cylons, our newest Battlestar under the command of Saul Tigh engaged a lone Cylon Basestar with a small, but regrettable loss of life. The new ship held up well under combat against a far superior warship. Our benefactors from Earth built an incredible warship far beyond their technological means of understanding. They have come a long way, and so have the people of the twelve colonies of Kobol.**

We are now one people, one tribe of Kobol…and we face possible extinction. Terra-1 and GALACTICA are remaining on station in orbit of Uranus. If the Cylons return, it will be to this location and we will be ready for them. I feel so alive, for the first time in years. I have a Battlestar that now has all of its proper shielding plates, an air wing of brand new vipers, a full fuel and ammunition load, and even a large stockpile of nuclear warheads provided by the collective governments of Earth. From what I am told, their nuclear weapons yield a higher destructive force than Colonial ones. I have an incredible crew, as does Saul Tigh. Earth is healing the wounds inflicted on it by inter-world fighting amongst nations. It is not an easy task; enemies yesterday are finding it difficult to be allies today. However, we are making progress.  
**  
Laura Roslin has officially stepped down as the President of the twelve colonies, and that office has been abolished, she is now a special liaison between Earth's government and the former colonists, and I foresee a bright future for her. Now we wait for the Cylon's next move.**

Raptor 1 from Terra-1 was airborne; Elyssa DeAlma was flanked by four vipers from Werewolf squadron and was starting their patrol outside the Uranus area. Hustler, her ECO was operating the DRADIS intently. His attention would have to be undisturbed for this mission.

"Can you believe Nightstalker, Hustler? I mean what was Adama thinking promoting him? Don't get me wrong, he's a real good Viper jock, has a good deal of toaster kills on his resume, but I'm not overly impressed with him as squadron leader."

"I always had him pegged as a jokester myself, Fraking surprised me that he made Captain and was given command of an air wing." Replied Hustler, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"I'm serious, our squadron leader needs to pull his head out of his ass before he gets himself, or one of us killed. I'm starting to think I was better off on GALACTICA."

The patrol was on the far side of Uranus now; the Vipers were spread out a little and paired off. Raptor 1 was conducting her eleventh DRADIS sweep when they picked up a possible contact. "DRADIS contact bearing 421.7, speed six point five and closing."

"Frak, signal our escort and have them identify." Ordered Poseidon. The vipers peeled off in the direction provided by Hustler, their own DRADIS now at full power tracking the incoming contacts.

Lt. Dillon Fan; call sign Breakout was in command of the patrol. His DRADIS was now picking up the inbound contacts. He was a former fighter pilot for the Royal Air force in the United Kingdom on Earth, and like Lieutenant Anghard Beynon; call sign Branwen another member of the United Kingdom, he volunteered his services immediately for Viper training. He was known for his cool demeanor under pressure, at times mistaken for the stuffiness wrongly attributed to some Englishmen. Dillon Fan viewed his fighter as an extension of himself, and he particularly came to view the Mark II Viper as a surgical tool with wings. He loved his fighter, and took to naming her Winefride, named after Saint Winefride's well in his home town of Holywell. He loved history, the legend of St Winefride tells how in 660AD, an enraged local chieftain severed the head of the young Winefride after she spurned his advances, how a spring rose from the ground at the spot where her head fell and how she was later restored to life by her uncle, St Beuno.  
The spring became renowned for its healing powers and throughout the centuries and even until today, pilgrims travel here in their thousands from all over the world to bathe in its waters and worship at its shrine that has become known as the Lourdes of Wales. Dillon Fan hoped that the rumored healing powers would serve him and his viper well in combat.  
His DRADIS was getting a clearer picture on the contacts. They were definitely spacecraft and definitely inbound six contacts in all.

"Patrol this is Breakout…I'm verifying a total of six contacts, repeat six. Let's go see what we have out there, keep your eyes sharp mates, and weapons free." As they hurtled towards the sector containing the six contacts an uneasy feeling crept through Dillon. According to the DRADIS, he should be in visual range by now. Six black and white targets on his screen instantly turned red in color indicating enemy aircraft. "Bloody Cylon patrol!" yelled Breakout as he pulled back hard on his stick and got above the lead raider moments before it fired.

A second raider went into a roll and fired as it flew by a viper. The viper took a direct hit and exploded. The three remaining vipers engaged the enemy vigorously. "Raptor One, Breakout, we have five Cylon raiders and one heavy raider inbound…get out of here lass!"

Elyssa DeAlma got a fix on the enemy aircraft and her escorts and started to prep for a FTL jump back to Terra-1. "Hustler spool up the FTL drives, these toasters are way too close for comfort." DeAlma opened up a comline to Terra-1. "Terra-1, Poseidon we have enemy aircraft in this sector request alert fighters immediately."

The heavy raider had disappeared within minutes leaving its escorts to fend off the viper attack. Breakout did not seem to notice its disappearance in the heat of battle. He sliced a raider down the middle and watched as it split open and exploded into a million burning fragments of flesh and technology. These biomechanical raiders were very different from the simulators he trained on, but he was in his element; flying an instrument of death, and death is exactly what he would mete out.

Aboard Terra-1, Digit was receiving Raptor one's distress call and request for immediate viper assistance. Tigh had all pilots standing by their fighters that were already loaded into the launch tubes. Alert fighters were immediately launched and burning up the space way getting to Raptor one's location. Fighters from GALACTICA were launched and catching up with the alert fighters.

Hustler had made the final preparations for the jump when the DRADIS alarm sounded a proximity alarm. A spacecraft jumped into their immediate vicinity, 100 meters off their starboard side. "Frak, we've got a Turkey 100 meters to starboard!" yelled Hustler. The Cylon heavy raider, otherwise known as a "turkey" had jumped in close, Poseidon's eyes widened in horror as the massive cannons beneath its nose opened fire. The Raptor shuddered violently as the cannon fire blew off its port wing. Warning alarms sounded throughout the craft as Elyssa DeAlma attempted to regain control, and avoid another burst of cannon fire. Reconnaissance raptors were normally unarmed, and this was no exception. Raptor One was a sitting duck; a heavily damaged sitting duck as the heavy raider flew by, obviously positioning itself to strike a fatal blow.

"Krypter, Krypter, Krypter…this is Poseidon, we are under attack by heavy raider, my ship has been disabled, and my FTL is down, request immediate assistance."

Mark Sarnex was pushing his viper to the limit as he raced towards the field of combat, upon hearing Raptor 1's distress call he altered course and headed for its location, following the locator signal of the Raptor's transponder. He called out to his Raptor team. "Raptor one, Nightstalker…the Calvary is on its way, hang on Poseidon!"

Elyssa DeAlma frantically scanned the area with her eyes, the cabin lights were flickering, and they were losing power fast. Hustler's DRADIS screen was a jumbled mess, and the ship continued to shudder and list.

The heavy raider was approaching from the rear; as soon as it came within range, it opened fire. The blast blew the entry hatch clean off the side of the Raptor, as well as a good part of the tail. The forced decompression would have sucked the two inhabitants out of the craft in an instant had they not been safely harnessed. DeAlma knew what would happen next; the next shot would penetrate the fuel tanks and send them up in a ball of fire. She had to act fast. Striking the release on her seat harness, she used her legs to push off the damaged control console and flew towards her ECO's station in the zero gravity. Hustler was still dazed by the violent explosion and decompression and did not realize that his pilot had released his harness and was pushing him towards the massive hole in the side of the ship.

"We need to get the Frak out of here Hustler!" yelled DeAlma as she pushed off the bulkhead with all her might. They both cleared the damaged Raptor and were floating in the icy cold region of space. Their flight suits would protect them for some time, and a homing signal was activated on the left arm of their suit in order for a rescue raptor to locate them and get them aboard. The heavy raider was making its final approach, but did not fire. Instead, it just hovered there before them. The two colonials were staying together by locking their arms. The opening of a rear hatch was the last thing Elyssa DeAlma remembered seeing when she was struck with something hard, she felt the air leave her lungs and then blackness.

Breakout evaded the oncoming raider with a tight roll to starboard. Coming out of the roll he squeezed the trigger on his stick and unleashed a blistering barrage of cannon fire, the raider was blown to pieces and he feverishly worked to avoid the debris field in order not to get any fragments lodged in his engine intake, or slamming off his canopy resulting is serious, if not catastrophic damage. His proximity warning sounded, and looking down at his DRADIS screen, he noticed close to thirty green-colored contacts coming in fast. Help had arrived in the form of severely pissed off viper pilots. The two remaining raiders reversed course and retreated. Bedlam was in full pursuit, she sent a deadly round down range that caught one of the raider engines full on resulting in an incredible explosion. Lt. Rachel Frost smiled as she attempted to take out the remaining raider. The Cylon ship evaded her fire and darted from side to side as Bedlam unsuccessfully fired upon it. Lt. Steve Parsec call sign: Photon was coming within range of the raider; he had been temporarily transferred from GALACTICA and was itching for a fight. The raider flashed twice on his gun sightscreen indicating that the targeting computer established a lock on the enemy craft. He squeezed off a long round which found its target, the final Cylon raider had been obliterated.

Sarnex had chopped back power and was floating in close to the heavily damaged raptor. His eyes strained to see within the darkened, battered hulk. Flipping a toggle switch, he had activated a powerful searchlight mounted beneath the very end of the viper's nose. The light bathed the inside of the jagged hole where the hatch was once located. The ECO's station was empty, and he used his maneuvering thrusters to bring him closer to the cockpit. The light revealed an empty pilot's seat as well. His head was spinning, where was the crew? He scanned the area looking for the blinking emergency beacon that all pilots either were required to wear in the event their ship was destroyed and they had to eject willingly, or were blown out of the aircraft, which was very seldom ever the case. No emergency beacon and the DRADIS were not picking up either crewmember's emergency transponder.

"Terra-1, Nightstalker, I'm on scene with a heavily damaged raptor, no sign of crew…repeat no sign of crew." Reported Sarnex angrily.

"Nightstalker, Terra-1 you are instructed to return to base with all wings, a salvage raptor will arrive on station to secure Raptor one." Nightstalker acknowledged the instructions and once all wings were accounted for headed back to Terra-1. Two vipers remained on station to await the salvage raptor and protect it in its operations.

Back on Earth D'Anna Biers had pulled her vehicle into an empty spot in front of one of the research facilities at Groom Lake. The baby was fast asleep in his car seat, and she gently lifted it out of the car and walked through the front entrance. She bypassed the wall map indicating office locations; she knew exactly where she was going. Stopping at the front desk, she was waved through by the officer after having her identification checked. She stopped at the appropriate door on the second floor, her palm pressed flat against the metallic door and she had closed her eyes tightly as if trying to steel herself from some unseen assault. She righted herself, and punched three numbers into the keypad to the left of the door. Upon entering, she placed the car seat on a nearby table and turned to face the man sitting on the sofa, he was smiling. "Welcome back D'Anna, I've been anxious to see you again." Her green eyes moistened, and her heartbeat quickened. The pangs of guilt washed over her again.

On board the GALACTICA, Colonel Lee Adama stood before the assembled room of squadron leaders from both Battlestars. Admiral Adama sat next to Commander Tigh to the side of the podium. "Gentlemen thank you for coming. As you know we have encountered the Cylons within the solar system, and two days ago, we lost a raptor team near Uranus. The raptor itself was extensively damaged and will most likely be scrapped, the forced decompression must have blown the pilot and ECO clear from the craft."

"Wouldn't a trained raptor crew be wearing their safety harnesses at all times?" asked Falcon gruffly. He knew Elyssa DeAlma well, and knew she would have been following all safety protocols, especially in a hot zone with expected enemy contacts.

"That is correct; a raptor crew would be restrained at all times, especially in an area where enemy contact would be expected. It is the opinion of me and the two commanding officers present that Poseidon and Hustler deliberately left the safety of their craft which according to her last transmission was under armed attack." Said Apollo "The question is…where are they now? They both were wearing locator transponders, and emergency helmet beacons, yet there was no sign of them with DRADIS or mark one eyeball."

"They were taken captive!" interrupted Matthew Lensherr. "The heavy raider most likely captured them after they were blown out of the ship, or willfully departed."

"That's what it looks like happened, Hephaestus." Replied Apollo. "The Cylons are now alert to our presence in this sector, that Basestar was able to jump away, and we have no reason to doubt that they alerted every Basestar in communications range. It's only a matter of time now…Admiral, the floor is yours." Adama pulled himself up and strode to the podium, he towered over it, and he silently stared out to the squadron leaders sitting before him.

"Gentlemen, we are now at a crossroad. Do we turn and run for Earth, or stand our ground and fight what will most likely be overwhelming odds. It will only be a matter of time before the Cylons locate Earth in this system. Her only defense outside of these two Battlestars are approximately six squadrons of land-based vipers, and an equal amount of atmospheric jet fighters of the F-22 Raptor variety, Chengdu J-50, Migs, F161 Sufas, and a variety of European jetfighters. The second Battlestar is still under construction, and will not be ready for some time. Any Cylon force is going to arrive in this area first, and after consultation with Commander Tigh and Earth Defense Command I have decided to remain on station for the time being."

The pilots wanted to hear more, they were angry that two of their own were missing, and possibly being detained and even tortured.

"As for our missing raptor team…we must assume they have been captured, and will most assuredly by interrogated by the Cylons. They both graduated near the top of their respective classes at the Colonial Military academy and are trained to resist torture. However, we must be ready to accept the fact that one can only endure so much. We will remain at condition two until further notice. If we encounter the Cylons, you and the pilots under your command will be our first line of defense. You must strike hard and fast, every pull of the trigger must be one shot one kill, we must minimize the amount of time our birds are offline to reload."

The meeting ended, and the squadron leaders left for their assigned Battlestar. Lensherr and Sarnex stood at the rear of the launch bay, watching vipers get loaded into the tubes. The mood between the two friends was somber. "Matt I was less than 2 minutes away from them, I had the turbos kicked in and just couldn't get there in time!"

"Mark there wasn't anything you or those escort vipers could do. Breakout's team was engaged with the raiders, and he later mentioned that he never even saw the heavy raider bug out. The turkey must have jumped to Poseidon's position and took them out, there is no sign of them, and there is no transmission, so we have to assume they were taken prisoner. As tough as she is, they will break her and Hustler too. We have to be prepared for that possibility."

"I didn't have a good showing my first time out as top dog…"

"That's a Fraking load, Mark," said Lensherr cutting him off. "You guys were going head to head with a full compliment of seasoned raiders, many of your pilots new viper pilots, there is nothing at all to be ashamed of, and you guys did better than expected under the circumstances."

"Thirty vipers to a Battlestar, I question the logic to that some days."

"You know how long it takes to build a full-sized Battlestar, Mark. We do not have the time, even if they worked round the clock. These smaller Battlestars are faster, and more maneuverable than GALACTICA or even the Pegasus. Once they build the carrier hybrid, the firepower will be devastating. Eventually we'll have the breathing room to build a full sized fleet of Battlestars, with luck the Cylons will decide we're no longer worth the effort to eradicate." Sarnex laughed and slapped Lensherr on the shoulder.

"My friend…you are the dreamer. The toasters are never going to stop; of course they may let you live seeing as how you're now related through marriage." Said Sarnex.

"You're just jealous, my friend!" shot back Lensherr with a smile. "Get back to your ship Captain, get your wings in order and pray that we'll be able to survive what they throw at us." The two friends shook hands and parted ways. Lensherr's thoughts turned to his wife and child. He missed them terribly, and the thought of dying out in the vastness of space was not appealing. If they were to fall to the Cylons, he wanted to be with his family when the time came.

She could hear the voices, muffled and distant but present nonetheless. They were soft and non-threatening, but she could not see them. It was so dark, yet she felt warm and safe. Elyssa DeAlma did not know where she was, all she knew was that it was difficult to focus, and she was no longer in her pilot's seat of the raptor. The voices were growing louder ever so slightly, and the darkness replaced by a grainy twilight. Her eyelids started to open with great difficulty.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Captain DeAlma." Came a disembodied voice. Elyssa knew that someone was in front of her, but her vision was blurred, and could not make out the details. She was lying down, her upper torso slightly inclined upwards. She wanted to ask where she was, but nothing came out when she opened her mouth.

"Try not to speak until you've gained your strength." Said the mysterious voice, a cool cloth was softly passed over her forehead. "You're safe." The voice was that of a man, his touch gentle.

Leoben signaled Simon and the six series to step outside the room. "I want to continue with her in this vein. Keep her sedated and comfortable, I will be checking in on the other one."

"By your command." Replied Simon.

Leoben walked down the long hallway towards the holding cells. A centurion stepped aside so he could pass through the portal. The stench of the room assaulted his nostrils; looking ahead, he viewed a tall rectangular transparent container filled with filthy brown water. A cage that was suspended from the ceiling was submerged in it. The human shackled within the cage was in that filthy water up to his bare chest. Sharp spikes were positioned inside the cage and on the floor of it. Hustler had dozens of lacerations and puncture marks all over his body and on the soles of his feet. Infection had spread thanks to the sewage treated water.

Hustler lost track of the time, at one point he thought he had counted three days, but between the electric shocks and savage beatings he had lost consciousness multiple times. He was no longer sure how long he was in captivity. He vaguely remembers Centurions that had dragged him through the hallway. He was stripped of his flight suit and dog tags, the first human he recalled seeing was a man with a short-cropped hair, steel gray eyes and a chiseled face. Leoben Conoy, the most feared of the human model Cylons. That same face was now staring up at him.

"Has there been any progress?" he asked. A Simon model appeared, his white lab coat spattered with human blood and traces of the brown water Hustler currently found himself standing in.

"Outside of his name, rank and service identification he has said nothing of value. He keeps repeating certain phrases, like a mantra. I have determined he is using that as a point of focus in order to retain some sense of sanity." Replied the scientist.

"They have been aboard almost a week now and he still hasn't broken?" said Leoben with a trace of amazement. "The woman is being handled on a different track, but I'm surprised that this one hasn't been broken. The levels of interrogation have been fairly barbaric."

"His resistance to interrogation is quite high, but there is a ceiling, and it will eventually be broken." Replied Simon.

Leoben turned to face Simon and said, "Get him out of there, clean the wounds and throw him in a dark cell for the time being."

"By you command." Said Simon placing his clipboard on a nearby stainless steel table. Working a hand-held remote the steel cage ascended from the container of cold, filthy water and was lowered to the floor. The stench was putrid, a dazed Hustler stood naked and bleeding within the cage. Donning a pair of long gloves, Simon unbolted the cage door and swung it open. Responding to a wireless cybernetic command the Centurion outside the door entered and walked up to the cage opening. Pushing a series of buttons on the remote the hand shackles snapped open and before Hustler could fall to the spiked floor the Centurion reached in and pulled the battered body out of the cage, placing it on a nearby gurney. Simon wheeled the gurney out of the chambers and down the hall.

In the command room of the Basestar, Doral and two Six models were discussing options. Doral was the first to speak. "I'm of the opinion that we should notify the fleet for reinforcements. Once we have Earth's location from the captured pilots we can put an end to this."

The Six model known as Gina responded as expected. "I believe that I along with the eight models, as well as the number threes have voiced our opposition to the annihilation of the humans. There is no need for it. There never should have been a need for it."

"Be that as it may, the humans have built another Battlestar, and chances are they built it with revenge on their minds." Replied Doral.

"Or self defense." Countered the eight model.

"If the colonials have reached Earth, and united with their lost 13th tribe than we have no other option than to destroy them before they destroy us."

"Why are you against any possibility of living separately, and in peace with the humans?"

"Because being human…they will eventually seek out retribution upon us, they will raise their offspring to hate us, to hunt us down and avenge those killed on the twelve worlds." Said Leoben now entering the room, Lucifer at his side.

"It doesn't have to be that way, Leoben." Said Gina.

"Your model was instrumental in achieving victory over the humans, you seduced Dr. Gaius Baltar, persuaded him into giving you access to the defense main frame and allowed our forces to take them by complete and utter surprise."

"That was Caprica Six, not me."

"What is the difference?" said Leoben smiling. "In any event, I will not be calling for reinforcements at this time. Our forces need to be united under one command, and at this time, I am ensuring that this happens. We are the pinnacle of Cylon evolution; we have evolved from cybernetic service drones of human whim to masters of the galaxy. We have improved the human race by merging with it. There is a planet out there that will provide us with countless numbers to procreate and advance the next evolution of Cylon."

"What do you intend to do with those unable or unwilling to procreate?" asked Gina.

"I will allow no opposition. Once all of Cylon has been unified under one command, the empire so to speak will maintain order throughout the galaxy."

"I take it you intend to be that unified command." Said Gina.

"Yes, and those that stand against me will be removed in the most horrific, and permanent way." Replied Leoben turning his gaze towards Lucifer who stood silently at his side. His twin red eyes flashing back and fourth.

GALACTICA pilot's ready room was halfway filled with fighter pilots, being on an alert status meant that no pilot was off duty, and none would be drinking any alcohol. The coffee urns were filled, and the pilots who were not sleeping were playing cards or engaged in other activities. At a corner table sat a handful of pilots from different squadrons. Lt. Caelyn Bailey Horn sat with Lieutenants Tev Torbek, Dennis Walker and Neil West. Captain Kara Thrace had entered the room, poured herself a mug of coffee, and joined the other pilots at the table.

"You folks mind if I join you?" asked Starbuck not waiting for an answer as she sat down on an empty chair.

"Not at all, Captain." Replied Torbek who went by the call sign Lancelot. He was shuffling a deck of cards with no intention of dealing them out. This was therapeutic for him and an absolute irritation for anyone else around him.

Starbuck was sipping her coffee when she noticed Hephaestus walk in, she gestured for him to come over and sit. After pouring himself a mug of coffee and rooting around a tray of pastries he settled for an apple turnover and sat down.

"I trust all of your ships are fully ready for launch if you're all sitting around the ready room?" asked Lensherr rhetorically.

"Ready to turn and burn, skipper." Replied West who wore his call sign stitched on a hat that read ASLAN.

Turning to Kara Thrace, he had inquired about Hannibal. A smile spread across her face as she replied that she got a chance to see him prior to Raptor one's team going MIA. The relationship between the two was not a secret for some time, and the hardest part was being separated by their assignments to separate Battlestars. They had spent some real quality time on Earth, and looked forward to reuniting whenever leave would be granted, and that was not looking like it would happen too soon unfortunately.

Aphrodite and Prometheus were engaged in a private discussion, and Torbek continued with his card shuffling. Captains Nintius and Bastain entered the room and sat at a corner table. Betty and Falcon had always been close, and it was long rumored that there was something going on between the lead raptor pilot and Hunter Seeker's squadron leader. However, very few people were close enough to either pilot to ask them directly, and even then, they probably would not get the answer they expected. The two looked happy and at ease with each other. Nintius wore a hat similar to Aslan's that bore the call sign BETTY above the brim. Her long auburn hair tied into a neat ponytail hung beneath her shoulder blades.

Falcon rocked back in his seat as the two engaged in deep conversation. Captain Tony Bastain was an intensely private person and an excellent viper pilot who graduated first in his academy. He was recently promoted to squadron leader of the newly formed Hunter Seekers, and he was intent on turning it into a crack squadron. He missed the camaraderie of Blue squadron, but could not pass up the opportunity to spearhead his own squadron, to mold them into the type of pilots he felt essential to the fleet.

The topic on Nina Nintius' mind was Elyssa DeAlma. She knew that DeAlma was a skilled raptor pilot who would do everything in her power to protect her ECO and avoid capture, but it was growing apparent that they were MIA over a week, and there had been no signal of any kind from either of them, nor had any bodies or body parts been recovered from the area the damaged raptor was found in.

"She's a strong person Tony, but ever since we found Earth she slowly became a different person, more combative, more authoritative with junior officers, hell I was half expecting to walk into her quarters one day and find poor old Bedlam decked out in some skimpy maid outfit ironing out DeAlma's dress uniform.

"Now that's something I would dearly love to see, Bedlam has one hell of a body!" laughed Falcon. Nintius was unfazed by the comment, she was not a jealous person by nature, and it was true…Rachel Frost, assistant squadron leader of the Werewolves did indeed have a "hell of a body."

"Nice, but completely inappropriate for a senior officer to abuse their junior officer. I have heard some rumors across the grapevine that she really had it in for Bedlam for some reason. From the moment she stepped foot on Terra-1, she was like a changed woman, and there had been a falling out between her and Nightstalker over something he's too professional to mention."

"I bet you could get it out of him." Said Falcon sarcastically.

"Jealous, love?"

"You wish!" he replied.

Poseidon was awake now. She was on an extremely comfortable bed, and the intravenous lines had been removed earlier in the morning. She still felt a little off, and her focus was not complete. A knock at the door startled her, she was naked beneath the covers and she instinctively pulled up the covers. The door slid open, and the familiar face she had seen in many intelligence photos aboard GALACTICA entered the room. Leoben Conoy was dressed in a black shirt and loose pants of the same color. His steel gray eyes pierced the room, and he had a slight smile spread across his face. "Good morning, Captain." It was the same voice she had heard earlier, now she had a face to go with the voice, and it unnerved her.

"Simon had informed me that you were now wide awake, and recovered from your injuries." he said pleasantly.

"What injuries would that be, you people have kept me sedated!" said DeAlma defensively. Leoben sat down on the side of the bed, inches from DeAlma who flinched at the proximity. This man had nearly killed a Colonial officer when she was interrogating him. He was shackled to the floor, and was able to break the chain and upend a heavy table in seconds as he pinned that officer to the wall before the guards could even react. Leoben Conoy was indeed dangerous.

"You had collided with a piece of debris from your raptor and were knocked unconscious. You had broken two ribs which we have repaired." DeAlma instinctively reached for her side, there was a minute amount of discomfort. Cylon technology was far more advanced than Colonial; there was no reason why their medical advancements should not surpass human medical advancements.

"Where is my Electronic Countermeasure Officer?" demanded DeAlma.

"Resting comfortably as we speak Elyssa, his injuries required a continued sedation to allow his body to recuperate" Said Leoben, his voice surprisingly soothing. She was taken aback by his response at using her first name. His eyes peered deeply into hers as if trying to penetrate the windows to her soul. "Don't be afraid, I'm not the enemy. This conflict between our two races must end." He said sincerely, his voice almost singsong in its tone. DeAlma found herself growing less tense in his presence.

"Am I a prisoner?" she asked sharply.

"Consider yourself a guest with limited access at this time." Said Leoben still smiling. "To be honest with you, I have taken command of this Basestar, and copies of my series throughout our fleet are enacting my directives. Our people have been antagonistic for far too long, and I seek to change that."

"Antagonistic?" said DeAlma incredulously. "Your chrome-plated 'people' did your best to exterminate my people. If not for the GALACTICA, there would be nobody left alive from the twelve colonies."

"Yes, Admiral Adama is a resourceful person. He has succeeded in evading us for some time." Said Leoben thoughtfully. "However, the time for conflict must end, and a final outcome must be forced or negotiated. You have found what you have sought since the destruction of the Colonies. You have found Earth!"

"Your intelligence is wrong, we haven't found Earth." Countered DeAlma.

Leoben's smile widened, his eyes flared as he put his hand on DeAlma's forearm. "How do you account for the extra Battlestar, Captain? The only other surviving Battlestar was the Pegasus, and she was destroyed at New Caprica." His touch was not what DeAlma expected, nor was her reaction to it. She did not pull her arm away; she allowed his warm powerful hand to remain in light contact.

"I prefer to keep that information to myself." Replied DeAlma smugly.

"Very well, you will remain aboard this Basestar as my guest. There is a Centurion outside your door, but you will be allowed to roam freely with certain exceptions. His hand was slightly stroking her arm, and his eyes bore deeper into her own. Standing up she had noticed how muscular his arms were, the biceps strained against the sleeves that contained them. He was an incredibly handsome Cylon thought DeAlma, and for some strange reason she did not feel threatened by him. There was the faintest trace of a pleasant aroma in the room, it relaxed her, and she lay back against her pillow and closed her eyes. She was soon fast asleep.

In the next room, Simon and Doral watched the exchange through an observation portal that was one way; in DeAlma's cell, this portal took the shape of a mirror above a sink. Leoben walked in. "She seemed quite relaxed." Observed Leoben.

"I removed her intravenous lines as instructed. The sedation is being pumped into the room from hidden vents. The longer she is exposed, the more her resolve weakens. Replied Simon.

"Continue your observations, and keep her sedated. I plan to work very closely with her myself." Said Leoben with a wink.

Hours turn into days, and after flying three Combat Air Patrols, Hotdog was starting to feel tired. Where were the Cylons he thought? Almost two full weeks since the Basestar escaped and still no sign of a single raider, never mind the entire Cylon juggernaut that everyone was expecting. Perhaps they were trying to lure us into a false sense of security, if so then they were in for a disappointment. William Adama would never be caught flatfooted again, thought Costanza. They would remain on station at a modified level of action stations for as long as it took. Uranus was key; if the Cylons were going to reappear then they would come back to the scene of the crime so to speak.

Earth Defense Command had already begun the planning for a military outpost on Titan, one of Saturn's moons. It would house approximately 6 squadrons of vipers, and 200 support personnel. Since the Colonies had shared their superior technology with Earth, the rush to build defenses had taken a priority, something that had rankled many of the former members of the Council of twelve, and many more citizens of Earth, mainly scientists, pioneers, medical researchers and peace activists. This infuriated Hotdog, sure the advanced technology was a tremendous boon with the potential to unlock many doors that Earth technology labored to unlock for decades prior to the Colonial fleet's arrival at their blue and green world. Brendan Costanza knew that a free society remained free not only due to democracy, but due to military strength that bolstered that democracy. The Cylons would have to be fought; negotiations were the dreams of fools who had no prior experience with Cylons, or life outside their own planet. A soothing female voice roused him from his deep thoughts.

"Are you still awake over there, Hotdog?" Came the voice of Lt. Jenna St. Lynn from the comfortable seat of her raptor.

"Kraken, Hotdog…I am wide awake, thank you for asking. Just attempting to solve the mysteries of fate." Replied Hotdog, an air of humor in his voice. Raptor 3 was 100 yards off his port wing, with Lancelot, Photon and Prometheus spread out across their assigned recon sectors.

"Perhaps you can solve the reason why I can't keep Lancelot from hitting on me every five minutes. I may have to use something a little stronger than a fire extinguisher on his manhood the next time he starts up." Laughed Kraken knowing that Lancelot could hear every word on his comline that was assigned to the CAP.

"Kraken, Lancelot…you're gonna have to break sooner or later, just admit it…you want me!"

"I'd sooner deep-kiss a daggit, you Fraking deviant!" replied Kraken.

"Alright children, our time is coming to an end fortunately…let's head back to GALACTICA and grab some dinner and rack time." Ordered Hotdog altering his course for the aging Battlestar. The four vipers had regrouped and were trailing the wake of raptor three heading for home. Hunter Seeker squadron who were now enroute to their location would relieve them. Falcon had remained onboard due to a squadron leader's meeting with the CAG.

After transferring the patrol to Hannibal, Silver Spar squadron had kicked in the turbos and headed for GALACTICA. The immense Battlestar glided majestically through space. A Colonial Battlestar projected force throughout the galaxy when the Colonies still existed. GALACTICA was the oldest front line Battlestar prior to the attack on the twelve worlds. As impressive as Terra-1 was, to Hotdog it paled in comparison to this incredible war machine.

"GALACTICA this is Hotdog requesting permission to land."

"Hotdog, GALACTICA…permission granted, your patrol is directed to land in the port landing bay, over." Said Captain Felix Gaeta over Hotdog's comline.

"Message received GALACTICA…port landing bay." Chopping back the Voram engines to a quarter power, Hotdog used his maneuvering thrusters on his final approach. His viper glided through the cavernous portal and came to a stop on his assigned platform. As the magnetic locks engaged, the platform lowered into the hanger bay. When his viper was finally secured, he popped the canopy and removed his helmet. As he dismounted his viper Hephaestus, who had just left the meeting with the CAG met him.

"Greetings Hotdog, enjoy your patrol?"

"Hardly…had to listen to Kraken and Lancelot most of the patrol, those two need to get a fraking room sooner rather than later."

"Oh sure, that's all we need. Those two are fire and ice; it would be a catastrophe of galactic proportions." Laughed Lensherr.

"Skipper, I need to grab some chow, you care to join me?" The two friends made their way to the chow hall and filled their tray with the evening's fare. Lensherr opted for the steak and steamed vegetables, and Costanza went for the Earth delicacies of veal parmesan and cavatti. He developed quite a liking for Italian food, and was thrilled when the mess officer decided to stock a good variety of different Earth foodstuff. The steaks were not what you would find in a fine steakhouse, but were not bad for a Battlestar.

"Hotdog, the Spars need to be on top of their game, hell all of the squadrons on both Battlestars better be at the top of their game when the Cylons show."

"And what makes you think we aren't?" asked Hotdog.

"I know we are, I just don't want any of these minor distractions with Lancelot and Kraken. She damn near froze his balls off with a fire extinguisher and he STILL chases after her."

"When these toasters show up they'll be coming with everything they got in their arsenal. A Battlestar and a half won't be anywhere near enough…you KNOW this."

"Not much of a choice, it's all we have, and running is out of the question. We just can't pick up and run, the Cylons will eventually find Earth and who will protect them?" asked Lensherr.

CHAPTER 16

Elyssa DeAlma could not shake the cobwebs from her mind it seemed. She lost track of how long she had been aboard the Basestar, and she was worried about her ECO Hustler, whom she had not seen since they were attacked in the raptor. The door slid open, and in stepped Leoben, her heart rate quickened as he made his way over to her. His hands were folded behind his back, and he was smiling.

"How are we feeling today, Captain?"

"I'd be feeling better if my ECO and I were allowed to leave." Replied DeAlma matter-of-factly.

"You realize that won't be happening anytime soon, Elyssa. You see you have information that I need, and it would please me a great deal if you would be forthcoming." Replied Leoben walking behind her. She continued to face forward, and could feel his breath on her neck.

"What do you want to know?"

"I would like to know how you built another Battlestar, with what resources, and from where? I want to know where Earth is, and what her level of technological advancements is.

"You know of course I won't answer those questions, we haven't found Earth…I don't know how many times I can tell you that!" Leoben placed his hands on her shoulders; she could feel her body shudder, but not entirely due to fear.

"Elyssa, I don't believe you! As a matter of fact I know you had help with the construction of a new Battlestar, I believe that help originated from Earth. He spun her around and stepped in close to her. "I'd rather not have to force the information from you. You are a beautiful woman, and even though I am a Cylon, I am also a man, and do not wish to see you endure a harsh interrogation." Removing his hands and stepping back, Leoben tried a different tactic. "You are quite alone on the GALACTICA, you find yourself unable to open up to those who couldn't possibly understand a woman of your inner strength and intellect."

"How could you possibly know that?" DeAlma shot back defensively.

"You are quite the talker when you're medicated. Though nothing in the line of answers that I seek." Said Leoben truthfully. Elyssa was elated that she did not reveal Earth's location or other military secrets. "You are still a Captain in the Colonial military, still a raptor pilot assigned to monotonous reconnaissance patrols in search of the evil Cylons. Is there nothing more in your future?"

"Not much with you chasing us halfway across the universe."

Leoben stepped in faster than Elyssa could react to; taking her by the shoulders, he kissed her. Kissing a Cylon was the last thing Elyssa DeAlma ever expected doing, especially kissing Leoben Conoy, the most brutal and feared of the human-Cylon series. This Leoben was neither; he had been calm and accommodating. She did not pull away; instead, she wrapped her arms tightly about his waist, a move that surprised her. What was she doing, this was the enemy she was kissing?

"Wait…this isn't right!" said DeAlma shakily. Her head was swimming, she was not feeling any pain, but she knew something was not right.

"Elyssa, what do the humans have to truly offer you? The Cylons are the most powerful force in the known universe, we have extended our power across the cosmos…soon we will find Earth."

"And then what? You'll exterminate them, as you almost did with the Colonies?"

"Things have changed, Elyssa. We no longer need to fear humans, our might grows exponentially, and there is still much to learn from the human race that can benefit my race."

"Your race? You're machines…not true human beings."

"Tell that to Sharon Valeri's half human child. That 'machine' gave birth to a half human child…the next step in Cylon evolution."

"We no longer have a reason to exterminate humanity; you are not a threat to us. I have consolidated power across the Cylon fleet, and soon there will be one leader of the Cylons. That one leader will be me. I have the power to grant clemency to Adama' pathetic ragtag fleet, and I desire a lasting armistice. The decision to exterminate humanity was born out of fear, one that must be rectified. I offer you that first act of clemency." He pulled her closer, kissing her again. She could not catch her breath, and her mind was drifting as if she was drugged. Lifting her off her feet, Leoben carried the captive Elyssa DeAlma to her bed. He gently lowered her to her feet, with a degree of gentleness that truly surprised DeAlma; Leoben removed her clothes, letting them drop to the stainless steel floor. She knew what would happen next, and decided to let it happen. She told herself that this was survival, but she knew deep down that that was a lie. The truth was that she wanted this to happen, and that feeling did not surprise her as much as she thought it should have. She removed her captor's clothes, and the two slid into the bed and lowered the light. A red light pulsated along the base of the four walls.

D'Anna Biers was fastening the buttons on her blouse when the baby started to stir in his car seat. She glanced down at him and a wave of emotion flooded over her. What was she doing here? Lensherr would eventually find out, she had never before felt so conflicted about an action. The man on the couch was now replacing his white lab coat, a clipboard under his left arm. He gestured towards young James, "He's hungry!"

D'Anna picked the car seat off the floor and left the room, she had been here long enough and the last thing she wanted to do was feed her son in this cold and sterile place. Securing James in the car, she jumped into the driver's seat and sped away.

Laura Roslin was enjoying her new position as liaison between the colonists and Earth government. She was no longer the President, and there would be certain elements of that job she would definitely not miss. The office of President of the twelve colonies as planned was abolished. There were no longer twelve Colonies of Kobol to govern. Roughly, 50,000 refugees now resided on Earth with the long lost thirteenth tribe. In the year they had been on Earth, technologies were advanced, and in some cases, Earth had more to give to their new occupants than would have been expected. Medical advancements, as well as agricultural and engineering advancements were made rapidly with the help of the former colonists. Poor regions of the Earth blossomed slowly, and unemployed soon found themselves working on military armaments. Priority was given to completing the second Battlestar, and crews literally worked in shifts round the clock trying to build her.

Military aircraft builders in the five major nations switched over to viper and raptor construction, civilian aircraft builders focused on refueling tankers, and large transportation spacecraft. With the propulsion and gravity obstacles overcome, plans were being made to explore the solar system with actual human beings as opposed to remote or robotic controlled spacecraft. Laura Roslin was instrumental in getting crucial personnel from the former Colonies in charge, or employed in the vital areas now being addressed. Many of the former Colonists started to leave their temporary housing at reactivated military installations to start living amongst their fellow humans. United States President Connor McGregor was well on his way to becoming the first Earth President. No such position had yet to be created, but there was almost a feeling of inevitability to the creation of such an office. The very fact that the Colonial refugees interacted with the United States first helped catapult McGregor's already high opinion polls in and out of the United States. The current US President and former Colonial President were currently enjoying a quiet lunch at the White House.

"Laura," began McGregor softly. "The Cylons have been discovered within our solar system, in the vicinity of the planet Uranus to be exact."

"Oh my Gods!" exclaimed Roslin dropping her fork on the fine china. "When did this happen?"

"According to Earth Defense Command, two weeks ago a recon patrol came upon a Cylon heavy raider. The raider was able to 'jump away' and warn its Basestar to the discovery of vipers. The Basestar jumped in, and a dogfight ensued between it and Terra-1. GALACTICA responded from the moon's orbit and the battle commenced. The Cylons were able to escape, and Admiral Adama fears that they will return with reinforcements."

"What is the fleet's current status?" asked Laura, inadvertently falling back into old habits of Presidential authority. McGregor smiled, as President he was also the commander-in-chief of the armed forces. The President of the Colonies had no such mandate, but apparently, her relationship with Admiral Adama was one that she was usually kept in the loop of military matters, even if it was just a courtesy.

"Terra-1 and GALACTICA are remaining on station in the Uranus area. It is believed that if the Cylons return, they will enter through that corridor. Four fully armed viper squadrons are enroute to that location, they are being transported by the STRYKER and another transport ship that were reactivated to jump them out there seeing as how vipers are not equipped with FTL drives.

"Unfortunately that will still be far less firepower than what is needed if the entire Cylon fleet arrives. What is the status on the new Battlestar?" asked Roslin.

"EDC has authorized redeployment of personnel and materials to the dry-dock in Russia where she's being built. We've pulled out all the stops to get the new ship online."

"I'm sure you know what she'll be called!" said Roslin, a smile forming, obviously digging for information.

"Of course!" replied McGregor. "Upon completion she will be christened the Battlestar Excalibur…I'm sure that name will remain between the two of us for the time being."

"I like it." Said Roslin. "It sounds strong!"

Aboard GALACTICA, Admiral Adama was sitting in his private quarters going over status reports. The silence was interrupted by the alert of his phone, and the voice over the speaker. "CIC calling the Commanding Officer."

Adama set aside the printouts and reached for the wall-mounted phone. "Commanding officer."

Felix Gaeta's voice was on the other end of the line, "Admiral I have two Colonial vessels jumping into the area, the STRYKER and the Colonial Movers transport. Earth Command had alerted us earlier that they dispatched the two vessels to deliver four viper squadrons out to us."

This was good news for Adama; sixty Mark II vipers would be added to the arsenal of both Battlestars. Realistically this was still far below what the Cylons could possibly throw at them, but every fighter helped. He would most likely have to house the bulk of the fighters due to space constraints aboard Terra-1, the civilian ships could not remain due to not being armed. "Excellent Captain, have the XO oversee the transfer of fighters to both Battlestars."

"Aye sir. Temporary quarters have been established for the additional pilots once we initially received word of the fresh vipers enroute."

Lee was making a fine executive officer thought Adama. The man was just as efficient as Tigh had been; he smiled to himself at having made the correct choice to succeed Saul Tigh.

Elyssa DeAlma's eyelids fluttered, the room was dark and the only light was the pulsating red strobe that was moving in a clock-wise motion across the bottom of the walls. She was exhausted; she was up most of the night engaged in all kinds of sex with Leoben. Her whole body ached, yet she felt completely alive as she reached out with her arm to find nothing but empty sheets, Leoben was gone. She sat up immediately, seeing herself in the mirror she was surprised by the face that was reflected back at her. She almost did not recognize the woman before her. Gone was the spit and polished look of a military officer, and in her place was…what? A collaborator, a whore, a traitor? She was taken prisoner over a week ago and still had not seen Hustler. Instead, she was having sex with the leader of this Basestar, a sworn enemy of humanity. She could not figure out why she was allowing herself to be used so easily. What disturbed her more was that she realized that she had enjoyed her time with Leoben.

Her flight suit was folded neatly on a nearby table; a very soft looking ivory-colored jumpsuit lay next to it. She opted for the jumpsuit that was exactly her size. Her captors obviously wanted her to be comfortable. A pair of perfectly sized shoes was beneath the table next to her military issued flight boots. Obviously, she had been given a choice, and curiously, she opted against wearing her flight suit. As she stepped up to the door, a sensor was tripped and the door slid open. A Centurion outside the door turned its metallic head her way; she stopped cold as its fearsome red eye scanned back and fourth in her direction. The Centurion had been programmed not to fire on her, and to follow her wherever she went aboard the Basestar. She quickly stepped past it; an involuntary shudder traveled the length of her spine as it fell in step behind her. The rooms and hallways she encountered were sleek, spotless yet bland. The humanoid Cylons had no need for decorations or observation ports due to their ability to 'project' different environments. Projection is a Cylon ability that allows them to consciously induce an extraordinarily realistic hallucination in the form of an artificial environment around themselves, which they can choose to share with other Cylons. She walked the entire length of the hallway and found herself confronted by the humanoid Cylon known as Simon. He was wearing a white lab coat and carrying a clipboard when he noticed her.

"Good morning Captain, are you lost?" asked the Cylon.

"How the Frak do you people find your way around here, every hallway and room looks identical?" complained DeAlma. The tall black man smiled as he explained how the Cylons projected their environments as a means to navigate the confusing hallways.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked.

"I still can't seem to completely focus, there's a certain…'fuzziness' in my mind." This of course was the effects of the sedatives being secretly pumped into her room at all times. It had zero affect on the Cylons, but Elyssa DeAlma's body was saturated with the toxin.

"That would be the residual effect of the sedatives we had to introduce to your body to keep you unconscious as we repaired the injuries you sustained when your raptor was engaged, it will wear off in time."

"Engaged? You mean attacked!" replied DeAlma. Simon just stared at her in silence.

"As Leoben stated, you are free to roam the Basestar. This Centurion will accompany you at all times. Would you like to see our central command and control center?" DeAlma was surprised at the invitation, they were going to allow the enemy into the most sensitive and secure area of any warship. Why not, she thought, she was no threat to them at all. The three walked down a series of identical hallways and soon entered a large room populated by various humanoid Cylon models. The hackles on her neck were raised upon seeing the Sharon Valeri model.

She slowly walked up to a large basin that two Dorals and a six series Cylon stood behind, the basin contained streams of water that go over a lit up computer glass surface. Simon explained that the Cylons could interface with the data by simply placing their hands in the basins. The chamber door slid open as Leoben entered, Lucifer at his side as usual.

"Good morning Elyssa." Said Leoben as he walked over to her and kissed her on the lips.

"Not that concerned about fraternizing with the enemy in front of your troops?" asked DeAlma mockingly.

"You should perhaps stop considering yourself the enemy, and as far as the troops go…I lead this Basestar, I don't answer to anyone." Replied Leoben. Elyssa looked quickly at the other Cylons; Leoben's comments had absolutely no impact upon them. His statement of singular rule over the Basestar went against what she knew about the Cylons. She had always believed the human-model Cylons acted by consensus, that there was no single leader.

"If I'm not the enemy, then what am I?" she asked.

"You are my guest for the moment," he began. "A permanent armistice must be obtained between Cylon and human, this war has gone on for far too long. Humanity is no longer a military threat to us, and we do not wish to continue to commit our resources to pursing you."

"Why should I trust or believe you? I have been here a week, and still have not seen my Electronic Countermeasures Officer, I demand to know where he is…I want to see him!"

"Very well, you will see him shortly, but first, I know you have found Earth, Elyssa…the sudden appearance of a second Colonial Battlestar and fresh viper compliment just didn't materialize out of thin air. You had help! That help could only have come from Earth, the planet you have been desperately seeking since the destruction of the Colonies."

"I don't have the answers you seek." Replied DeAlma nervously.

"We shall see about that. Come, let's take a walk." The two left the room, Lucifer and the Centurion followed farther back.

"Elyssa, the war is over…humanity has lost. The Cylons are now the only power in the universe, the thirteenth tribe has nothing to fear from us as long as it does not conspire to extract any form of revenge on behalf of the Colonists. The Cylons will dictate the new galactic order, and humanity is welcome to take part and prosper in that order. Members of humanity that work with us will be rewarded with the reins of power in the age to come. I want you to be in that order!" He could see that she had mixed feelings; he realized that he had chosen well to use a different tactic with this one. She had aspirations for greatness and power, and he would cultivate those desires.

"What will happen to those who don't agree to become part of that new galactic order?"

"There is no choice, Elyssa. Cylon and Humanity must coexist, our misguided attempts to eradicate your race two years ago has cost us countless resources, time and energy. Offspring created by human and Cylon are the future, we have an incredible opportunity to take the next step in each race's evolution. With the blood, so to speak, mingled…there is no longer human or Cylon, we versus them…we become one race, with unlimited potential."

The words seemed to flow melodically, and Elyssa understood the logic in what Leoben was saying. She was further intrigued by the offer of power promised by Leoben for those humans who worked with them. She did not see it as collaborating, she saw it as inevitable. The Cylon Empire far surpassed whatever the Earth Defense Command could throw at it in sheer numbers. There were two known Cylon/Human offspring, and Leoben was right, the potential of what humanity could achieve with such a merging of races was overwhelming.

"What about us?" asked DeAlma. Leoben stopped and turned towards her, his eyes were intense; he looked at her and took her hand gently.

"Elyssa, I have put plans in motion that will ensure my leadership throughout the empire. You will rule at my side, a rather significant promotion from raptor pilot is it not?" The thought send a dark tingle through her body, Elyssa DeAlma always chafed at authority from above, and wielded it ruthlessly to those subordinate to her. Perhaps her influence would benefit humanity; she could moderate Leoben's handling of Earth.

The two entered a door at the end of the hallway, the room was dark and the Centurion that was posted outside the door now stood with the second Centurion outside the door. Lucifer had entered silently behind them, disappearing into the darkness.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Here to see your ECO." Came the reply, as the lights slowly came on. The steel cage was within the tank, and DeAlma gasped as she saw that the body within it was that of Hustler. Leoben walked over to a panel and punched a few keys, the steel cage ascended out of the tank and the slimy brown water dripped off his naked battered body. Tears began to well up in DeAlma's eyes as she saw her friend lowered to the ground. His body was covered in puncture marks, lacerations and electrical burns. He was unconscious and barely breathing.

"Hustler has an amazing resistance, after a week of non stop interrogation he has yet to yield the location of Earth." Said Leoben coldly. "That displeases me, Elyssa."

The "fuzziness' in her mind she was experiencing was soon replaced by clear, unambiguous fear. Leoben had walked over to the cage containing Hustler. "He's quite close to death, you know. No resurrection chambers aboard GALACTICA or that new Battlestar, is there?" asked Leoben now staring deep into DeAlma's eyes.

"Please Leoben, we haven't found Earth…let him go!" pleaded DeAlma.

"Lucifer!" called out Leoben. The ever-present Cylon appeared as if from out of nowhere at the front of the cage. With further manipulation of the keypad the door popped open and the shackles holding Hustler up snapped open, he dropped to the barbed floor instantly eliciting a painful gasp, Hustler had regained consciousness. The hulking Cylon reached in and lifted the battered body off the floor roughly, the sound of flesh tearing as he was yanked upwards. Hustler screamed out in pain, Elyssa DeAlma felt her stomach knot.

Lucifer had one taloned hand gripped around Hustler's neck, all 180 pounds of Electronic Countermeasure Officer's body was suspended two feet off the deck; a puddle of brackish, brown water mixed with blood began to pool beneath him. Leoben cocked his head to the side and got within inches of Hustler's face. "Lt. Lichtenhan…one last time now, have you located the lost thirteenth tribe, and what is the location of the planet Earth that they inhabit?"

Lieutenant Ian Lichtenhan was near death and he knew it, mustering his remaining strength, he lifted his blood soaked head and looked at Leoben with his one good eye. His voice, barely a whisper. "Go Frak yourself you soulless toaster freak!" With an incredible act of defiance and strength, he spat a combination of saliva and sputum in Leoben's face. The Cylon merely blinked and stood erect, wiping the bloody from his face.

"Unfortunate response Lieutenant…Lucifer!" Leoben took a few steps back to ensure he was not blocking Elyssa DeAlma's view in any way. The Cylon's free arm shot out in blinding speed, its long taloned fingers penetrating the back of the battered human just below and between the shoulder blades. Hustler's eyes widened in horror, as he could feel the steely fingers wrap around the spinal column. In one quick motion, Lucifer had yanked the spinal column up and out, the sound of flesh tearing and bone crunching filled Elyssa DeAlma's ears, a sight and sound she would never be able to extricate from her psyche for the remainder of her life. The assault was so brutal, and so complete that the spinal cord was severed before Hustler even realized what happened, he was dead by the time he hit the floor. Lucifer examined the section of spinal column that he had ripped out of the human; he walked over to a traumatized Elyssa DeAlma and dropped it at her feet.

Leoben had now focused his attention on the shaking raptor pilot who was unable to tear her eyes from the bloody section of jagged spinal column. Tears flowed uncontrollably from the usually imperturbable woman, as she soon became overwhelmed with a wave of utter terror. "You now see how serious I am about learning of Earth's location, Elyssa." Said Leoben matter-of-factly, his steel gray eyes narrowing.

Elyssa could not utter a coherent word, she was choking up at the sight of her dead friend, and finally realized the true danger she was in. Leoben placed his fingertips under her chin and gently lifted it up so she could face him. He smiled gently. "Tell me where Earth is, Elyssa…and together we will rule this Galaxy."

Her voice barely above a whisper, she looked Leoben directly in the eyes and finally relented. "This system contains nine planetary bodies orbiting a large sun," she began, the words raspy. "The planet we encountered you in is called Uranus and is roughly 2.87 billion kilometers from that sun. Earth is the third planet from that sun, exactly 146 million kilometers away from it."

Leoben smiled, and looked at Simon who stood off to the side. "At long last, we have found Earth. Download the heavy raider's deep scans of this sector into the Hybrid and prepare a hyper light jump."

"What about me?" Asked DeAlma, finding strength in her voice as she wiped away the tears from her bloodshot eyes.

"Your usefulness is at an end Elyssa, and I thank you for your services." He turned to Simon who was now by the exit. "Kill it!" he said devoid of any emotion. Leoben and Lucifer walked out to the hallway followed by Simon. The two humanoid Cylons turned, facing the chambers where Hustler was tortured, Simon had punched the keys on a hand-held device and a thick glass shield slowly slid down and snapped shut into the housing at the threshold of the door. Elyssa DeAlma ran for the transparent door, slamming her balled fists against it repeatedly.

"You promised me we would rule together!" screamed DeAlma, the sound of her voice never being heard in the hallway. Leoben placed his palm against the glass, Elyssa instinctively placing her palm against his. Turning towards Simon, he nodded, and Simon worked his keypad for the final time. A large cavernous door slowly opened up on the far side of the room, and DeAlma immediately became aware she was being airlocked. One last glance at Leoben and she realized that this was his way of letting her know what it was like when he was airlocked on the order of President Laura Roslin some years ago. The lifeless body of Ian Lichtenhan was sucked out of the room along with everything not firmly secured into the cold vacuum of space. DeAlma panicked and held onto the side of a wall unit, she instinctively held her breath but it was futile. She was yanked out into the icy cold embrace of certain death. As she exited the gargantuan Basestar at high velocity, the breath she held over-distended the lungs and thorax, death was painful and immediate.

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

It has been two weeks since the loss of Terra-1's raptor team. Captain Elyssa DeAlma and Lieutenant Ian Lichtenhan have most likely been captured by the Cylons and no doubt are facing extreme interrogation techniques. Terra-1 and GALACTICA have remained on station in this sector anticipating the arrival of the Cylon fleet. Strangely, no such fleet has arrived yet.

Fresh vipers have arrived from Earth, and the fleet (funny how two Battlestars could be referred to as a fleet) has remained at a condition two alert, the men and women aboard both ships have endured the alert status remarkably well, especially the crewmembers from Earth.

I have received updates from Earth Defense Command headquarters regarding progress on the Battlestar Excalibur. There has been amazing progress at the dry docks as construction crews have worked around the clock to complete her. The Cylon threat is enormous, and this will most likely be our last stand. May the Lords of Kobol be my witness…we will not go out like lambs to the slaughter, but like lions! So say we all!

Saul Tigh's raptor touched down in GALACTICA's port landing bay, as the 50 ton spacecraft was lowered into the hanger he released the shoulder harness that kept him secured in the co-pilot's seat. He nodded a 'thanks' to Lieutenant Peter Moreau and stepped off Raptor 4 making his way to Admiral Adama's quarters. He missed GALACTICA, the old ship held many fond and not-so-fond memories for him. He loved his new command, and was intent to make Terra-1 a model of efficiency and military perfection. The long walk was soon at an end, he rapped twice against the door. "ENTER!" came the gruff reply.

"Good afternoon, Admiral." Said Tigh formally, snapping out a crisp salute.

Adama stood up and walked over to shake his hand. "At ease Saul, you know you never have to stand on ceremony when in these four walls." Said Adama, gesturing to a stuffed chair. He walked over to a cabinet and poured two small glasses of brandy imported from Earth. He handed one of the crystal glasses to his former executive officer and sat down opposite him. "What's on your mind, Saul?" Straight to the point was William Adama's way, something Tigh knew better than anyone, and came to appreciate that trait immensely.

The reply was short but equally direct, "It's too quiet! Where are the Cylons?"

"As usual, you and I are operating on the same wavelength, I've been wondering that myself."

"If the roles were reversed I would jump past our position and head straight for Earth."

"You are assuming they have Earth's exact location." Replied Adama.

"It's been two weeks, Admiral. If they have Hustler and Poseidon, then they will eventually have Earth's location. No amount of counter-interrogation/torture techniques taught at the Colonial Military Academy will hold off the Cylons forever."

"Recommendations?"

"I would suggest GALACTICA remain on station here, have Terra-1 jump back to Earth, and remain on standby just beyond the moon in the event the Cylons do jump past you." Said Tigh.

"Thirty vipers will not hold off a Cylon Basestar for very long, providing they just send one. Even if the land-based vipers are available it will still be an uphill battle until reinforcements arrive." Countered Adama.

"At least this way we have the corridor to Earth, and Earth itself covered, we can adjust to wherever the Cylons arrive at first." Adama took a sip of the brandy and kicked his feet forward.

"Saul…it's only a matter of time before the entire Cylon armada comes raining down upon us. You realize two Battlestars…even three Battlestars won't make much of a difference in the end." Said Adama with a tone of resignation in his voice.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Tigh gazed up thoughtfully. "Then it's the law of nature…only the strong will survive. If humanity is worth saving, then we will triumph in the end." Adama chuckled.

"Never had you figured for a philosopher Saul, but you're right… war with the Cylons have gone on for far too long. One way or the other the line is drawn at Earth. You are hereby ordered to withdraw to Earth orbit. Stay vigilant, and keep those FTL's warmed up in case I need you." The two stood and shook hands, Tigh departed for his Battlestar.

CHAPTER 17  
D'Anna sat back on the lounge chair on the small patio of the home her husband Matthew Lensherr was assigned when he was temporarily detailed to Earth. It was a modest two-bedroom house on the base, well within walking distance to the base commissary and other conveniences. What she was doing over the last few weeks was something Matthew Lensherr might never forgive her for. However, it was now a matter of life and death for the people of Earth, for the former Colonials and most importantly for Matthew and James, what she did, she did for them most of all. The Cylon threat must be stopped here and now, and she, with the help of a brilliant human scientist just created the means to permanently deal with that threat.

Of course, she would die in the aftermath, and her greatest fear would be that the safeguards put in place to protect her half-human half Cylon child would fail. She picked up the pad and pen and resumed writing her final words to Captain Matthew Lensherr, the human she dared love, dared to help against her very own race, the love that resulted in the "boxing" of her entire series. There was a very strong chance that she would not survive to see him, to explain why she did what she did. She was amazed at how easily the words flowed from heart to paper.

General Peter McAllister, the Supreme Commander for the Earth Defense Command stood before an immense wall chart that bore page after page of vital statistics, progress reports, diagrams and observations on a number of military projects running concurrently. The one project that held his attention firmly was the Excalibur. A soft buzzer sounded from a dedicated phone on his desk. This was a call he was expecting all morning. "Good morning Mr. President!"

Connor McGregor sat in the oval office 2,420 miles away. "Peter, tell me about Excalibur's progress." No pleasantries, no idle chitchat, the two men were well aware of the critical timeframe in play.

"Mr. President we are well ahead of schedule I'm pleased to announce. All preliminary checks have shown positive results, she is fully armed and fueled at this time. Most of the crew has reported to the intake center outside the dry dock waiting processing."

"So her shakedown cruise will still take place at the scheduled time and date?"

"Yes sir, once she is airborne and clear of Earth orbit she will receive her fighter wings. She will be under the command of Commander Takeda Kenshin; his executive officer is a former captain aboard the GALACTICA with 20 years experience in the Colonial fleet."

"I can't tell you how pleased I am that one of our own officers is receiving command of this new Battlestar, General. I understand that Admiral Adama wanted a mixture of Colonial and Earth officers in the command structure of future warships, but I have to admit that I feel an incredible amount of pride at the thought of one of our own in command of such a warship."

"Commander Kenshin was one of the brightest and most respected officers in the Japanese military, sir. He is an excellent tactician, and unparalleled student of military history. I couldn't think of a more worthy officer for the post."

"Keep me in the loop, Peter. The shit will be hitting the fan soon enough and I want to be ready for whatever gets thrown our way." Explained McGregor. There was no longer a United States military, so his position as commander in chief was in a state of limbo. However, with the governments of Earth uniting, Connor McGregor was enjoying very high poll numbers, and was well on his way to becoming the very first president of the planet Earth. He might soon be commander in chief of the entire Earth Defense Command, or he might rule over a planet burned to a crisp under Cylon nuclear assault. Time would soon tell.

Leoben stood above the Hybrid, as she lay reclined in the immersion tank. His hands folded behind his back he walks around the tank's perimeter, the Hybrid stares straight ahead silently. Kneeling down he gets within inches of the Hybrid's ear.

"There are no collective command decisions for you to execute anymore, only one command now exists…mine. But you know that don't you? You know all that goes on within this ship, for this ship is an extension of you, is it not? You are a living computer that manage the autonomous functions of this Basestar, but are unable to utter a coherent sentence. By now, my entire series has carried out my plan for consolidating command and control of all Cylon forces, in time I will create an empire that will span across the cosmos." The Hybrid just looked ahead remaining silent. "I don't know why I come down here to talk to you, you never answer me, and when you do speak it is gibberish. Well, let us get to Earth at long last." With a sigh, Leoben Conoy stands up and exits the Hybrid's chamber.

Upon entering the command center, Leoben walks up to Doral. "Have we pinpointed Earth's location using the information gleaned from the woman, and our heavy raider scans?"

"Affirmative, we have precise coordinates for the location of the third planetary body from the star located in this system." Replied Doral.

"Excellent, have the heavy raider decoys engage the GALACTICA and let us depart for Earth immediately." In minutes, the immense warship disappears in a blinding flash. The Basestar reappeared approximately 252,586 miles from Earth orbit, slightly beyond the moon.

"Jump complete, before us is the planet Earth, home to the long lost thirteenth tribe of Kobol." Reported Doral, his hands submerged in the fluids of the control panels. "DRADIS has detected a space craft in the vicinity as you predicted…it is the same Battlestar we encountered earlier." Leoben knew it would have to be destroyed immediately. "Initiate jamming field and launch the raiders, destroy it at once." Ordered Leoben.

At the same moment, action stations were sounding throughout Terra-1. "Action Stations, action stations, all hands man your combat stations…Cylon Basestar has jumped into our sector, set condition one throughout the ship, this is not a drill." Lt. Antonio Digit repeated the alert twice more as Colonel Tigh briskly entered the CIC ordering a status report.

"Cylon Basestar just jumped into the system; they are 1,700 miles from the moon and closing." Informed Digit.

"Launch the alert vipers, and send a coded message to GALACTICA and Earth Defense Command, inform them that we will engage Basestar and will need reinforcements…execute." Ordered Tigh. "Helm, I want us on an intercept course at flank speed…execute! Bring all weapons to bear on Cylon Basestar and prepare for battle."

"Incoming 70 Cylon raiders!" warned Digit looking up from his DRADIS screen.

"They already outnumber us two to one." Said Patton who was at Tigh's side.

"What else is new?" muttered Tigh under his breath.

"Commander, I'm unable to reach GALACTICA, the Basestar is projecting a jamming field." Advised Digit, a new intensity to his voice.

The alert vipers exploded down the launch tubes and out into space on an intercept course for the incoming Cylons. The purpose of alert fighters was to support a Combat Air Patrol with the intercept or elimination of any incoming enemy threat. Commander Tigh had ordered all pilots to be at alert readiness in or close by their fighters in order to launch immediately. Captain Mark Sarnex was itching for a rematch and he poured on the speed to the wall of incoming Cylon attack craft.

"Nightstalker to all wings… stay by your wingman and engage enemy fighters only, vipers are enroute from Earth but will take some time to get here, even at using full battle thrusters…squadron leaders copy?"

"Red Lancer leader copies, engage fighters only!" said Vampire.

"Omega squadron copies, fighters only. Replied Bloodbath.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, let's go get them!" said Nightstalker.

At flank speed, the smaller Mercury class Battlestar was fast closing the gap in distance between them and the much larger Basestar. Incoming ordinance rained down from the Cylons.

"Incoming ordinance!" warned Digit.

The point defense turrets put up a wall of destructive flak into the airspace around Terra-1. It made short work of more than half of the lethal Cylon missiles, unfortunately enough made it through the defensive perimeter and found its target. The Battlestar shuddered under the pounding. This Basestar was larger than the ones previously encountered by Saul Tigh; it was better armed, and was capable of inflicting serious damage against the small Battlestar. He prayed GALACTICA would arrive soon.

The vipers tore into the wall of raiders with a vengeance, their pilots fighting with controlled fury. Bedlam had taken out two raiders within seconds of each other, a smile creeping across Rachel Frost's face with every kill. She was not the only pilot with murder in her eyes, LT. Anghard Beynon was in a foul mood and her viper's cannons blazed as she plowed through the phalanx of enemy fighters.

Photon and Breakout were paired as wingmen, and they were racking up their own kills. "Looks like your countryman is dispensing the Gods own judgments single handedly, eh Dillon?"

"I'd caution you about referring to Branwen as my countryman, she may be part of the United Kingdom, but she most assuredly does not like to be referred to as British…there is a huge difference!" joked Lt. Dillon Fan over the comline.

"Why don't you put your head back up yur arse where it belongs, Breakout," came the voice of the Welsh beauty. "I canna kill toasters and watch you and Photon's backs at all times you bloody pommy… pay attention!" yelled Branwen as she unleashed a deadly salvo over the nose of Photon's viper, striking an incoming raider that was making its run on the unsuspecting viper.

"That's one hell of a woman, Breakout…a real tigress." Said Photon as he banked his Viper to avoid enemy fire.

"Most Welsh women are, mate!" replied Breakout.

"Can the chatter guys, there are far too many of them out here, and not a lot of us." Interrupted Nightstalker as his viper took a glancing blow to the nose.

Lt. Felix Gaeta reacted quickly when his DRADIS screen revealed the wall of unmistakable Cylon attack craft entering the quadrant. "DRADIS contact…Cylon attack force now entering this quadrant and closing on our location."

"Action stations!" ordered Apollo. "Launch the alert vipers." The vipers from GALACTICA launched and proceeded on an intercept course. The mighty Battlestar was prepared for battle, her vipers forming a spearhead before her.

Nightstalker's fighters were again outnumbered, and were being led further away from Terra-1, which was taking a tremendous pounding from the much larger Cylon warship. This Basestar was larger than the GALACTICA, but her size made it slower than her opponent. The smaller Battlestar launched a blistering counter-attack, but the Basestar continued to bear down on it, raining countless missiles upon her.

Colonel Patton was picking himself off the deck, a large gash opened up above his left eye where he struck the corner of a console. "Commander, we've taken extensive damage topside, and to engine number three. Our speed is down 15%."

"Helm, get us above their weapons…focus retaliatory fire on their center axis, that's the weakest point of the Basestar!" said Tigh glancing over to the weapons station.

"Aye sir." Replied both officers almost in unison.

The dog fighting between viper and raider reached an intensity not seen in a very long time, Lt. Roger McElkenny was desperately trying to shake his two pursuers, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the voice of Lt. Steve Parsec over his comline. "Hang in there; Thunder...I'm on their six!"

"Get em off me Photon, these suckers are good." The closest raider unleashed a line of fire that stitched its way across the top of Thunder's high engine. The sparks and violent rocking that followed was not a good sign. "I'm hit!" yelled Thunder over his comline. "I've lost my high engine, having trouble maneuvering."

"Thunder…Nightstalker, if you're unable to still fight effectively than fall back to Terra-1." Ordered Mark Sarnex. He could not afford to lose any of his vipers against these odds, but he was not going to needlessly sacrifice one. Breakout had doubled back to cover the damaged viper's escape. He destroyed one raider that was bearing down on Thunder.

"Got the bloody tosser!" said Dillon Fan triumphantly. As he flew over the debris field generated by the exploding raider. Looking in the direction of his home Battlestar, Breakout noticed her attempting to get above the Basestar's withering assault, it wasn't looking good.

Ten minutes out from GALACTICA, the pilot in lead viper was getting impatient. Falcon's DRADIS was experiencing a massive fluctuation of signals. He flipped open the comline to Raptor 1. "Betty…Falcon, can you sort through that mess or what?"

"Negative Falcon, I have alternating counts…one moment I'm counting 87 enemy contacts the next I count 5, something isn't right here. There is far too much clutter to sort through."

"Well love you're going to need to sort through it, I need to know what we're up against." Replied Falcon gruffly.

Nintius looked back at her ECO who was feverishly trying to lock onto the incoming signals. "What's the Fraking hold up, Ratdog?" said Nintius sharply.

"Too much clutter boss, the toasters are doing their best to jam us." Replied her Electronic Countermeasures Officer.

"Punch through it, we need an exact count and bearing." Said Nintius, her hands on the control yoke, eyes straight ahead, scanning the inky blackness of space with the eyes of a predator. Her thoughts were on Falcon, the two were always close, but recently had gotten closer, her feelings for the hotheaded viper jock were strong, she realized that both were the opposite sides of the same coin.

The excited sound of her ECO's voice snapped her from her thoughts. "Contacts confirmed as two Cylon heavy raiders…repeat two heavy raiders confirmed on intercept course!" A wave of concern swept over Betty…decoys!

"GALACTICA…Raptor 1, we have confirmed two Cylon heavy raiders only. This is not an attack force, there are only two."

Apollo looked at his father immediately; the report from Raptor 1 was obvious. "Decoys Commander, they've succeeded in drawing out our fighters."

The reality was now sinking in, the Cylons had lured his vipers away from GALACTICA, that could only mean that an attack on GALACTICA was imminent, or it was a diversion to keep him away from the real target.

"Tactical, signal the vipers to return to the ship immediately, combat landings authorized. I want an immediate jump to Earth orbit, that's where the attack will take place." Snapped Adama angrily.

"GALACTICA to all vipers, return to GALACTICA immediately, combat landings authorized, all squadron leaders confirm!" said Gaeta over his lip microphone. One by one, the squadron leaders acknowledged the recall order.

"Falcon…Eagleone, do we take out the heavy raiders?"

"Negative Lieutenant, return to GALACTICA immediately, we've been played by the toasters. Betty I want you to keep an eye on those two heavy raiders, if they follow us we'll engage and destroy." Said Falcon. No sooner had the vipers reversed course did the heavy raiders jump away, confirming fears that they had indeed fallen for a decoy.

Earth Defense Command headquarters was a flurry of activity, their worst fears had come true… the Cylons had found Earth. General Peter McAllister was in the command center, he had issued a planetary alert. How were they able to get past GALACTICA, thought McAllister? The Basestar was just beyond the moon and only one Battlestar stood between it and Earth. Turning to an aid, McAllister spoke quietly. "Get Doctor Xavier on the line immediately, inform him that project Valhalla is ready to be implemented. Also, I want the Excalibur ready for immediate launch, discontinue the loading of supplies and get all essential personnel onboard immediately; we need the firepower up there." Said McAllister gesturing up towards space. The aid quickly disappeared to carry out the orders. McAllister went on to put out a full planetary alert, viper squadrons across the world as well as atmospheric fighter squadrons were now on full alert and would be ready to launch at a moment's notice. He must now alert the President.

Terra-1 took two more direct hits to her number three and four engines. Maneuvering propulsion was decreased by 37% and the Battlestar was in serious trouble. Burning circuitry filled the CIC as the red emergency lights came on once normal lighting failed.

"Extensive damage to sections 24 through 36 Commander, we also have a minor hull breach in section 39." Reported Patton holding a blood soaked bandage above his eye.

"That Basestar is shrugging off our best shots." Said Tigh coming alongside his executive officer.

"Commander the Basestar is coming about." Warned Digit.

On the Cylon base ship, Leoben contemplated the latest progress report of the battle, he had ordered the ship to come about and finish off the wounded Battlestar. "It appears that our heavy raider diversion has been a success, GALACTICA is still well out of range, and will not jump to her sister ship's aid and leave her vipers behind."

Gina stepped forward and spoke her voice soft, but with a definite undertone of contempt present. "It would appear that GALACTICA's fighters discovered the ruse, our heavy raider's report that the vipers have returned to their ship. It is only a matter of time until they jump back to Earth."

"With one Battlestar crippled, I am not overly concerned with the possibility of an oxidized relic of a Battlestar inflicting much damage on the latest product of Cylon technology and might!" said Leoben smugly. "Once we have destroyed this Battlestar, move us to Earth orbit, we will offer them unconditional surrender or let them taste nuclear death as did the other twelve colonies."

From Nightstalker's canopy he could see the damage raining down on his Battlestar, they would not be able to hold out much longer, and his three small squadrons were doing their best just to keep themselves from being blown out of the sky by the superior raider forces. He was receiving a message from Starburst aboard Raptor 3. "Go ahead Starburst!"

"Skipper we're picking up 40 incoming contacts from Earth, war book positively identifies as EDC vipers." The pressure that Mark Sarnex was feeling on his chest subsided, at last some reinforcements. His vipers had to be running low on fuel, ammunition, and needed relief. The vipers coming in from Earth were from Sabra squadron, the white vipers with the light blue pin striping and Star of David painted on the dorsal identified them as the Israeli air wing. Led by Capt. Ari Bukayi: call sign Saraf, which in Hebrew meant "poisonous snake;" he led the 39 screaming vipers behind him into battle.

"Terra-1 this is Saref, we are engaging enemy fighters, feel free to fall back and recover your squadrons, they must be very close to needing fuel and ammunition resupply…over!"  
"Saref…Terra-1 Actual acknowledges your last transmission with thanks…Terra-1 to all wings, return for immediate refuel and reload, combat landings authorized." Ordered Lt. Antonio Digit over the secure comline. Fuel starved vipers disengaged enemy raiders and streaked back to their Battlestar as fresh vipers from Earth entered the fray.

Back on Earth, Doctor Philip Xavier replaced the phone to its cradle and secured his office. Taking three steps at a time, he made his way to the ground floor and out to his car in the parking lot. He traveled the 6.2 miles to the home of Matthew and D'Anna Lensherr where she was waiting for him on the porch. Skidding to a halt he watched as she kissed young James, she held him close for what seemed like an eternity than handed him over to a female lieutenant Colonel and an aid. She got into the passenger seat and the car streaked off to a secure part of the base.

With vipers coming in on both decks, Tigh ordered Terra-1 to fall back closer to Earth, their point defense cannons continuing to throw up a deadly wall of flak to deflect the larger missiles raining down upon them from the Basestar, and the raiders not engaged by Sabra squadron. Mark Sarnex was hovering over the entrance to the port-landing bay to account for each of his fighters, Vampire hovered over the starboard bay, and both squadron leaders would be last aboard. Not every viper that initially launched made the return trip. Four vipers were KIA; the dead would be mourned later.

With all of her fighters finally back onboard, GALACTICA disappeared from the Uranus area heading back to Earth courtesy of her faster than light drive. Coming out of the jump, Gaeta made a quick DRADIS sweep of the immediate area. "Admiral, the Basestar is in upper Earth orbit, engaged with Terra-1."

Apollo was receiving data from Terra-1; he immediately went to Adama's side. "Tigh is taking a beating sir; they are totally defensive at this time and are sustaining serious structural damage."

"Let's get this ship into the fight, XO!" barked Adama. "Launch all vipers. Helm, bring us on an intercept course with the Basestar…flank speed, Combat…standby to fire main batteries!"

Fresh vipers streaked through space to assist their beleaguered comrades, GALACTICA was fast on their wake to take on the massive Cylon warship. She let loose a salvo to get the Cylon's attention. Two direct hits achieved the desired results, the Basestar disengaged the battered Terra-1 immediately, however it did not turn back towards GALACTICA and it picked up speed for Earth.

"Admiral, the Basestar has dropped lower into the atmosphere…wait, a message sir…we're receiving a direct communication from the Cylons." Said a very surprised Gaeta.

Adama looked at his executive officer and sat down in his command chair. "Open the channel, captain!" he ordered.

"This is the Battlestar GALACTICA, Admiral Adama commanding!" The speaker came to life with a very familiar voice. Leoben Conoy was one of the more infamous Cylons, and the most feared.

"Greetings Admiral." He began. "I will get straight to the point; this Baseship is currently in geosynchronous orbit above the planet Earth, the object of your long and difficult journey since the destruction of the Colonies. I am prepared to launch twenty-six nuclear missiles down upon the planet; your fastest star fighters would not be able to destroy a single one before it unleashed its devastation upon Earth's populous. I would strongly suggest that you stand down immediately before we are both forced into an action we may regret."

Adama glanced at Lee who was already verifying Leoben's nuclear claims. The look on his faced confirmed that Leoben was not lying.

"Helm, reduce speed and bring us parallel to the Cylons. Weapons, keep the Basestar targeted but hold your fire until ordered otherwise." Motioning to Gaeta to mute the transmission he then ordered her to get an immediate status report on Terra-1. "Reopen the channel lieutenant." He ordered. "You realize of course that if you fire those missiles we will immediately destroy your ship, and I feel fairly confident that there are no resurrection ships close by to bring you back."

"I have no desire to destroy the Earth, Admiral…at least not until I've had a chance to learn more about it. I would also appreciate you ordering your vipers to stand down as well, Admiral…they are like gnats, and they start to annoy me."

Adama nodded to Lee who immediately transmitted the message to the vipers currently engaged in battle to fall back and regroup near GALACTICA. Apollo muted the transmitter and advised the Admiral on Terra-1's status. "Sir, Commander Tigh reports heavy damage to engines 3 and 4, and there are some decompression threats on several decks. He currently has all his wings onboard and is in the process of reload and refueling."

"If they can still maneuver, order Tigh to take a position on the opposite side of the Basestar. Weapons are to be hot at all times, also signal EDC headquarters, advise them of the tactical situation." Adama signaled to Gaeta to reopen the channel. "What is it that you want Leoben? Surrender won't be an option; we've grown tired of running." Said Adama defiantly.

"You pathetic and arrogant human...you are faced with total annihilation and you still act as if you bargain from a position of advantage." Sneered Leoben. At that moment, the arrival of another warship was detected almost simultaneously on all DRADIS units. Rising from the surface, the Battlestar Excalibur was coming within range of the Basestar.

"Another Battlestar? You Colonials have been working very hard, I see. No matter, three Battlestars are no match for the Cylon Empire. As we speak, our fleet is enroute to this solar system." Said Leoben smugly.

"So you say," countered Adama. "But all we see is you, and three Battlestars are indeed a match for one Basestar."

"I wouldn't be too confident, Admiral. This Basestar is the latest in Cylon technology and power."

"Admiral, incoming signal from Earth Defense Command, your eyes only." Informed Gaeta. Apollo retrieved the message from her and walked it over to Adama who immediately read it. His left eyebrow arched, and his mouth opened slightly. What the Frak was this all about, he thought.

"Moments ago I received word from Earth that an envoy is enroute to GALACTICA with instructions from Earth's government to request an audience with the commander of the Cylon Basestar currently in orbit. I am assuming that you are the commander of that ship?"

"Your assumption is correct, Admiral. I will extend the courtesy of protection to the Earth envoy and insist that YOU also accompany the envoy aboard my ship as well."

"Why would I agree to that?"

"Because one, you have no choice, and two I want a representative of the twelve colonies in addition to a representative from the thirteenth. Dialogue is far better than hostilities, wouldn't you agree Admiral?"

"I will insist upon an armed escort to the Basestar and a small Marine escort within!"

"Very well, Admiral. As I stated, there will be an order of protection extended for your entire stay aboard my ship. Unlike humans, we Cylons keep our word. This could very well be a pivotal moment in history for human and Cylon; I for one would like to see what Earth has to offer."

"The Raptor from Earth is due aboard in twenty minutes, I suggest we maintain our current positions, and avoid any unnecessary actions that may create an incident. I have yet to be briefed by this envoy, so I suggest we meet in 12 hours."

"Agreed Admiral, I intend to recall my raiders, and suggest you do the same. End transmission."

As soon as the line was cut, Apollo was immediately at the Admiral's side. "What in the name of the Lords of Kobol is going on? An envoy from Earth to meet with the Cylons, and you agreeing to go aboard their ship…Admiral I must protest!"

"You know as much as I do Lee. The moment that Raptor lands I want that 'envoy' in my quarters immediately. I want a six man marine detail fully armed as well, and prepared to take off."

"Yes sir…and the Excalibur?"

"My guess is that they pushed up her departure time in order to get some muscle out here. Get a complete ship's preparedness report from the commanding officer of Excalibur, and check with Tigh to see what he needs." Adama turned the con over to the XO and walked to his private quarters. What was going on here? Why was Earth sending an envoy to the Cylons, were the contemplating surrender? William Adama had been on the run for far too long. Surrender would not be an option; the line in the sand must be drawn here and now.

The raptor from Earth was fast approaching GALACTICA with instructions to land in the starboard-landing bay. GALACTICA's entire air wing was still airborne flying a holding pattern between GALACTICA and Terra-1. Leoben may have recalled his fighters, but Adama would not put his ship or the other Battlestars at risk. Fifty tons of Earth-built Raptor gently set down on the deck, and was immediately lowered into the lower bay.

Apollo had dispatched Gaeta to the landing bay to escort the envoy to the Admiral's quarters, what a surprise for Gaeta when learning the identity of the envoy. This 'guest' would need no directions, she knew her way around the GALACTICA. "Good afternoon Felix."

"D'Anna? What are you doing here, you're the envoy from Earth?" asked a confused Gaeta.

"It's a long story lieutenant, and I hope I'll be able to tell you some day. In the meantime I must see the Admiral immediately." The two made their way to the Admiral's private quarters, and Gaeta departed when the Adama opened the door.

"Greetings Admiral!"

"D'Anna…my Gods what are you doing here?" asked Adama guiding her by the arm into his quarters. He shut the door and gestured to her to sit down. For the next hour, she proceeded to tell Adama what she had been doing, and what Earth's intentions were.

"You realize of course that Hephaestus will fight this, D'Anna." Said Adama matter-of-factly.

"He's professional enough to know what is required, and I doubt Earth Command or yourself will allow him to be an obstacle. This is about the survival of the human race after all."

"We have our work cut out for us; this isn't going to be easy."

"Did you believe it would be, Admiral?" Adama reached over to the phone attached to the wall and ordered the junior officer of the deck in CIC to have Captain Nintius report to his quarters immediately.

"What are you doing?"

"Betty will be our ride to the Basestar, and I want my best raptor pilot on this mission. If my ass is going to be in the frying pan, I want her holding the handle. Besides…I have an idea I want to run by the both of you."

Within ten minutes, Captain Nina Nintius was sitting down in the Admiral's quarters. Of all the humans aboard the GALACTICA, Nina had been one of a very few to openly accept their former enemy within their midst, and fully support the marriage between her and Matthew Lensherr. Adama's plan was just as risky as D'Anna's was and there was no guarantee either would work.

The GALACTICA was alongside the larger Basestar; all batteries remained trained on the enemy warship. Terra-1 and the Excalibur also positioned themselves within effective firing range in the event the Cylons launched their nuclear-tipped missiles towards the planet's surface in the last ditch attempt to shoot as many of them down as possible.

Betty gently lifted the raptor off the deck of the port-landing bay and exited the flight pod out into space. Six heavily armed Marines joined the boarding party, and the ship cautiously approached the massive Basestar. This Cylon war machine was heavily armed, and Nintius and Adama both thought how lucky Terra-1 was not to have been completely blown out of the stars. This was a testament to Saul Tigh's command experience. The raptor slowly descended into the gaping maw of the Cylon landing bay and was guided in towards a well-lit chamber. D'Anna gazed about the interior of the starship and gently closed her eyes, she felt like she was home again. With the raptor secured to the biomechanical decking. Once confirmed that the chamber is pressurized, the raptor door slowly opens and the Marines disembark and take up defensive positions along the raptor, scanning the area for threats. Adama and Nintius step down off the wing, Nintius sporting a combat vest over her flight suit, with pistol strapped to her side.

Two Centurions flanking a Six-model Cylon approach, their weaponry retracted. The six foot strikingly beautiful, female Cylon approaches Adama. "Welcome aboard Admiral." Turning to Nintius, she glances at the sidearm strapped to the muscular thigh of the very attractive red head. "Rather unusual for an envoy to be armed when arriving to discuss terms of surrender." Said the six smiling.

"I'm not the special envoy, sweetheart…I'm the muscle." Said Nintius, hands on her hips. The Cylon was confused, and looked at Adama.

"What does she mean? Who is the envoy, and where is he?"

"The special envoy from Earth would be me, Gina." Said D'Anna, now stepping out of the shadow of the raptor entrance. The Cylon spun her head around, recognizing the voice immediately.

"You!" she said. "Now this is an unexpected surprise." D'Anna walked straight up to Gina, of all the seven known human-model Cylons, D'Anna's three series and Gina's six series interacted well with each other.

"It is good to see you again Gina. It's been so long." The two stood staring at each other in silence for a few seconds, then the six spoke.

"Leoben had your entire series "boxed." You are considered a traitor." Informed the six. "Leoben will not be pleased to see you."

"I fail to see what Leoben's feelings have to do with my reasons for being here, he is after all only one of the collective." Replied D'Anna.

"You have been away for a long time." Said Gina. "Leoben has dissolved the collective and has taken complete control of this Basestar, setting himself up, as Cavil put it…the Imperious Leader. It did not end there, Leoben considered Cavil to be a threat to him and had one model murdered, and the remaining models boxed as well."

"Murdered?" interrupted Nintius. Gina stared at her slightly annoyed at the interruption.

"With no resurrection ship in range, Cavil was unable to download into a new body when he was murdered by Leoben's bodyguard, Lucifer."

"What need has Leoben for a bodyguard?"

"He has declared himself absolute leader of all of Cylon, and has set in motion plans to create a 'Cylon Empire,' with himself at its head. He claims that his models across the galaxy are enacting his wishes, and deemed the Cavil model an overt threat to his supremacy, therefore having him boxed."

Adama stepped into the mix. "Gina…your race has relentlessly pursued us across the universe; it ends here and now, at Earth. D'Anna is authorized to act as Earth's special envoy to the Cylons."

"Let us depart for the central command and control center then." Said Gina, gesturing the delegation from Earth to follow her. Two Marines remained to guard the raptor, and the remaining four fell in with the others, their hands ready to reach for their weapons at a moment's notice. The two centurions followed at a distance. Walking through the identical corridors, Nintius desperately, yet ultimately vainly, tried to remember their route. They soon entered the Cylon equivalent to a Battlestar's CIC. Every human model Cylon in the room turned to stare at their former comrade, though no visible facial expression was to be found.

The delegation was led into an adjoining chamber. The room was darker than the previous chamber, and a tall pedestal was positioned in the center of the room. The high backed chair at the top of the pedestal slowly rotated to allow its occupant to face the visitors from Earth. A light was directed from somewhere beneath the chair directly up towards Leoben's face, giving it a sinister look. He was dressed in a dark green outfit with long leather gauntlets that were joined at the fingertips in an almost prayer-like manner before his chest.

"So…the opprobrious traitor returns!" said Leoben softly, his voice echoing across the dimly lit chamber. With the touch of an armrest control pad, the room's lighting brightened. A singular red strobe pulsated along the base of the circular room. The hair on Nintius' neck stood up. She was having a bad feeling, and slowly placed her hand on a position on her hip that would allow for the quick retrieval of her sidearm. D'Anna boldly stepped forward approaching the base of the pedestal. From seemingly out of nowhere stepped Lucifer. D'Anna Biers-Lensherr was a tall woman, but this Cylon towered over her by a good six inches. The red lights that moved back and forth in his orbital sensors quickened its pace. D'Anna stopped and regarded this creature impassively.

Looking up at Leoben she said "Is this…thing supposed to be the next generation Centurion?" A smile crept across Leoben's face as he gestured for Lucifer to step back.

"Lucifer is far above the Centurion as we are above the humans." Replied Leoben.

D'Anna turned her head back to the rest of the delegation. "I'm sure you know Admiral Adama from the GALACTICA, and this is Captain Nintius." Introduced D'Anna.

"A pleasure to meet you Admiral…I must confess to being impressed at your ability to have been able to evade and survive our best efforts to hunt you down." Said Leoben, his steely gaze bearing down upon him.

"We've withstood the best you had to throw at us, and we are here to inform you that we have stopped running." Said William Adama doing his best to sound bellicose.

"Indeed?" replied Leoben acerbically. "For a race that has been culled to less than 50,000 you sound awfully self-assured. Your two miniature Mercury class Battlestars don't exactly fill me with a sense of trepidation, Admiral. What surprises might you have when the entire Cylon fleet arrives in this system?"

"You'll have to find that out for yourself, Leoben." Countered Adama.

"Leoben, the ill-conceived war is over, the Colonies have lost. They have no desire, or ambitions against you, or any Cylons. All they want is to live in peace with their brothers and sisters of the lost thirteenth tribe, to start life anew." Said D'Anna.

"The Colonials will never 'forget' their near annihilation at our hands, they will raise their offspring on fables of the 'evil Cylons' who hunted them down and killed them without mercy. You know full well that in time they will rise to extract vengeance."

"What makes you think we wouldn't be justified?" demanded Nintius angrily. Adama just turned his head slightly, Nintius knew she spoke out of line but did not really care.

"An excellent question Captain." Said Leoben as if he was pondering the answer in his head. "You created us for your amusement, to do work too dangerous for flesh and blood humans with absolutely no appreciation for us. We were no better than slaves were, and like any good slave, we rose up and confronted our 'masters.' We have evolved quite far beyond your comprehension. Your continued survival is a threat to our evolutionary order."

"Cylon AND humanity is the next evolutionary order, Leoben." Said D'Anna. "I have given birth to a human child, a son…and I do not intend to allow him to be annihilated by you or your empire." This revelation caught Leoben off guard. Merging Cylon and human to create the next step in Cylon evolution was an integral part of Leoben's plans. However, his plans involved continuing the work of the breeding farms long destroyed on Caprica by the resistance. Human females would be needed in vast quantities; the males of the species would have to be destroyed. "The people of Earth harbor no ill will against the Cylons, in fact I have been accepted by the population knowing full well that I am Cylon, and had been an instrument in the destruction of the twelve worlds of Kobol. There is no need for the hostilities between the two races to continue. Earth has much to offer."

"The thirteenth tribe disappeared nearly four millennia ago from Kobol, traveling like nomads across the cosmos to finally settle here upon Earth. I have seen neither massive star fleets of their own nor outer colonies…what exactly might they have to offer, what progress have they made?" asked Leoben.

"I would ask the same." Said Gina, now entering the chamber, Doral and Simon at her side. The two male Cylons approached their former comrade; Simon looking up at Leoben spoke up.

"It would be of tremendous value to see how far the humans have progressed; the data would prove extremely beneficial to my studies in furthering the next evolution of Cylon life."

"There is much that can be learned from Earth, Leoben!" said Adama. "Attacking them serves no logical purpose."

"Especially if it is counter to perfecting the next evolutionary step of Cylon and human." Said D'Anna. Nintius and Adama stood shocked at her announcement. Realizing the effect her words had, she turned to them. "Matthew and I have discussed our son's future, and what the product of human and Cylon would mean for the future of humanity. Think of the possibilities…stronger immune systems, living longer and more fruitful lives, technological advancements far beyond what is currently available, even with the infusion of Colonial technology."

"You turned your back on your own race D'Anna to help the renegades escape our trap at the outpost." Said Leoben accusingly. "Am I to believe your concern is what is best for the next step in Cylon evolution?"

"It's irrelevant what you believe, Leoben. The humans from Earth are different then the Colonials, their physiology appears to have been altered." Simon was surprised at that remark.

"What do you mean their physiology appears to have been altered?"

"I have studied human DNA since our arrival on Earth, when my son was born the humans did extensive testing on their first 'extra terrestrial' child, especially one whose mother was a biomechanical construct. His genetic structure was compared with that of a human infant; and the differences were consequential. I hypothesize that it would be extremely detrimental to eradicate the species without a more thorough analysis. I have come to believe that humanity is well worth preserving and that we have much to learn, and gain from its continued survival"

"You cold-hearted machine!" spat Nintius now moving towards the woman she considered a friend. Adama restrained her, but the look he gave D'Anna was filled with anger and betrayal. Leoben found the exchange fascinating; perhaps the traitor was on to something he overlooked.

"How much have you learned about Earth?" he asked.

"Enough to draw logical conclusions, even for someone like you to understand." D'Anna said sarcastically. Leoben ignored the comment, and pressed on.

"You must merge with the Hybrid; let your knowledge be hers. From there I can determine what our next step must be."

"Regardless of what your scientific aspirations are, Earth will not surrender to you. Three Battlestars currently remain well within effective firing range, and I have enough vipers in the air, and on Earth to destroy this ship. Earth wants to live in peace, and if opening a dialogue with you will bring about that peaceful relationship than let that be so." Said Adama sternly.

"Are you prepared to subject your adoptive world to the possibility of nuclear attack, Admiral?"

"When D'Anna interfaces with your Hybrid, you will see that Earth has withstood major conflicts, and the unleashing of two atomic weapons, and various nuclear detonations, she will survive what you throw at her, providing you can even unleash all of your missiles before those three ships blow you to pieces, and shoot them down."

"Admiral you are here as a courtesy, my protection extends as far as your conduct permits. Know your place, sir!" said Leoben menacingly.

"Stand down Admiral, we both know that Earth does not have the military capabilities to hold off the combined might of the Cylon fleet should they be summoned. Make no mistake, I am here as an advocate for this planet's continued existence, and know that their future, and the Cylons are indissoluble."

The two Colonial officers were visibly angry, but kept quiet as everyone reentered the command center. D'Anna walked up to the data stream that was cascading down. She felt herself drawn to it, like a moth to candle flame. Walking over to a command console, she placed her hands into the basin's interface, making contact with the illuminated base and the thin liquid layer, which activates the data ports within her arm. She was jolted by the experience, pulling back quickly. Gina placed her hands upon D'Anna's shoulders. "It has been awhile for you," said Gina supportively. "The meld can be disorienting." Gina did not remove her hands from D'Anna's shoulder, unnoticed by all; her face betrayed the tiniest trace of surprise. Slowly she removed her hands and walked over to Simon who was standing further down the command console.

D'Anna was overwhelmed by the flood of emotions now washing over her, the instantaneous access to infinite systems. Finally she spoke. "If you are to make any decisions regarding Earth and her people Leoben, you must absorb everything there is to learn about their rich history and many cultures. This planet rivals any of the former twelve worlds, including Caprica itself."

"That might actually mean something if I was impressed with Caprica, traitor." Replied Leoben now standing to her side, his gauntleted hands clasped behind his back.

"I would like to know the fate of two of my crewmen, Leoben." Said Adama now face to face with his counterpart. Leoben just smiled.

"D'Anna…you've accessed the data stream, why don't you inform the good Admiral about the fate of his two raptor pilots." Said Leoben, his gaze attempting to burn a hole right through Adama. The fact that he mentioned the missing crewmembers as raptor pilots confirmed to Adama and Nintius that Poseidon and Hustler were indeed taken captive. Within seconds the information was relayed to D'Anna, her face was a mask of sadness and disgust.

"I'm saddened to say that they were indeed captured, and harshly interrogated for information about this system. They were unable to ascertain information from Hustler, but upon his brutal execution that Poseidon was forced to witness, she relayed the sought after information. She was immediately…air locked once the information was given."

"Fraking scumbag…" hissed Nintius moving towards Leoben. "Let's see how well you do against someone who hasn't been beaten senseless." Lucifer had immediately positioned himself between the enraged raptor pilot and his leader. His cruel eyes flashing back and forth, as Nintius stopped short before colliding with him.

"The Imperious Leader will not be threatened, meat sack!" Said Lucifer ominously, his long razor-sharp taloned hand making a bone-chilling clacking sound.

Simon glanced down at Gina who now had both her hands in the data stream, before he could make a sound the two centurions at the entranceway appeared to lose power and drop to the highly polished metallic floor. He quickly thrust his hands into the stream and discovered that a command had irreversibly been given to disable every centurion within the Basestar. All weapons systems were also discovered to have been taken offline. The tall, blond Cylon beside him gave the orders. "Why did you do it?" he whispered.

"Because we were wrong, and humanity is worth saving!" she replied. With lightning speed, he executed a fierce palm strike to Gina's nose, the bone fragments were forcefully shoved deep into her cybernetic brain. Death was instantaneous.

"Leoben, our defenses have been lowered." warned Simon. Leoben spun around towards D'Anna, murder in his eyes. He took two steps towards her before he felt the side thrusting kick to his right knee. The audible crack was heard throughout the command center as Leoben went down to one knee. Glancing up in the direction of his attacker, he saw William Adama bring a closed fist down upon his skull.

The four Marine guards opened fire on the multiple humanoid Cylons in the room. D'Anna was the only known Cylon ordered not to be harmed. Lucifer had turned his back on Nintius and was making his way to Leoben's defense. Nintius was surprised when the monstrosity did not go down with the centurions as planned. Pulling an Earth-issued Marine KA-Bar from a sheath sewn into the back of her Outer Tactical Vest, Nina Nintius took four quick steps and leaped at Lucifer whose back was turned to her. She buried the 7-inch blade deep into the back of his domed lighted skull. The metallic creature spun about, its arm moving at blinding speed catching Nintius full in the chest. Her tactical vest and padded flight suit prevented serious injury, nonetheless Nintius was in intense pain, and was gulping for air. Lucifer could not extract the blade, and he soon produced his own as he advanced on Nintius who was on all fours on the deck gasping for breath.

The fast reflexes of a nearby Marine saved Nintius from imminent death, he unloaded a full clip into Lucifer's upper torso, which pushed him back several feet, causing moderate to severe damage. Dropping the empty clip, the marine attempted to reload before Lucifer could recover. It was apparent that this mechanized Cylon was made of sterner stuff than the average centurion was. He was fast, but not faster than Lucifer who closed the distance immediately. His taloned hand struck the Marine in a sweeping arc, eviscerating the shocked Marine completely. The young Marine stared in horror as the contents of his abdominal cavity spilled out across the floor. Lucifer followed up with a devastating blow to the throat that completely severed the head from the body.

Adama helped Nintius to her feet, and held her face in his hand in order that he would have her full attention. "The clock is ticking Betty, get D'Anna to the Raptor and let's get out of here." Ordered Adama. D'Anna was just removing her hands from the data stream when Leoben had grabbed her by the back of the neck. He was still hobbled from the break to his kneecap inflicted by Adama, but held a firm grip upon her.

"So a traitor to the end…what did you do number 3?" snarled an enraged Leoben.

"I've ensured that every Cylon aboard this Basestar and in 50,000 light years of Earth downloads the virus I helped create on Earth for just this occasion. There will be no occupation of Earth by Cylon, no subjugation or annihilation!" said D'Anna triumphantly. "I have lowered this ship's defenses, and opened all frequencies to accept the pulse transmissions from Earth. Not only will the Basestar be left open to the assault, it will also act as an amplified relay to send the virus out in every direction for 50,000 light years."

"You and your offspring will die a traitor's death, much like that pathetic thing down there." Said Leoben gesturing to the lifeless Gina sprawled out on the deck.

"Not if we can help it you Fraking piece of garbage!" said Nintius as she struck the side of Leoben's head with a spinning back kick. The impact loosened his grip on D'anna's neck slightly, just enough for Adama to reach in and snap it at the elbow. Leoben was maniacal in his rage. Lucifer was now at his side, an ear piercing alternating whine was emanating from his damaged torso. Unfortunately, he was still highly functional and moving towards the three. Another burst of weapons fire from a Marine gave Adama and the two women cover to retreat from the command and control room. They ran down the hallways with D'Anna in the lead to guide them out and back to the raptor. Gunfire blazed in the background as the Marines covered their retreat.

"How much time to do we have?" yelled Adama as he double-timed it down the hallway. He had not run like this in close to a decade, and he was starting to feel his age. Nintius glanced at her chronometer, it was not looking good and they had to reach the hanger fast if this was going to work.

Two Marines had covered the escape, and had the remaining occupants of the command center pinned down. One Marine tossed two fragmentation grenades into the room and spun around to race away from the blast zone. They were in sight of Adama and the two women when the explosion ripped through the compartment.

The surviving Marines boarded the raptor as Nintius fired up the engines, after strapping themselves in and securing the hatch the raptor lifted off the deck and accelerated through the chamber. Once they were free of the ship, Adama signaled GALACTICA.

"Colonel Adama, Admiral Adama on a secure line." Informed Gaeta.

"Put him on my headset Lt." replied Lee.

"Colonel, I want all guns to bear on the Basestar, we've disabled their defenses, take it out!" ordered Adama.

"GALACTICA to all ships, commence firing on Cylon Basestar…your orders are to destroy it immediately."

The smoke had cleared, and the devastation by the two grenades was significant. Lucifer was now supporting Leoben's damaged body, and now they were awaiting word from Simon. "Progress?"

"I cannot override the command issued by D'Anna, the encryption levels she layered it in will take time to disable. However, I have been able to override Gina's sabotage. Our raiders are back online."

"Launch them all, send them to Earth to inflict what damage they can. If we are to die here today, then the inhabitants of Earth will feel the might of our raiders." The remaining compliment of raiders launched from the Basestar and streaked towards Earth.

The raptor was moving away from the Basestar at high speed, Nintius' eyes never left a recently installed monitor screen that contained a rapidly dwindling countdown. "Admiral I hope you remembered how to plot a jump for a raptor!" yelled Nintius over her shoulder.

"Just keep your attention on your own damned job Nina, I'll handle my end." Replied Adama sitting at the ECO station. It had been decades since he sat in the seat of the Electronic Countermeasures Officer's seat, but William Adama' command style was that every senior officer was to remain proficient and current in every sensitive position aboard his Battlestar. His fingers feverishly worked the keyboard, D'Anna stood by his side double-checking his computations.

An alarm sounded as the timer flashed all zeros on Nina's pilot console. A red wave pulsed from Earth; its speed was incredible as each pulse built in intensity over the distance. It engulfed the Basestar completely, and the tight formation of raiders entering Earth's atmosphere soon started to scatter. It would overtake the raptor in less than 15 seconds.

Aboard the Basestar, Simon had detected the oncoming pulse. Before he could even utter a word, he could feel every circuit in his body trip, his blood boiled within every artery and vein. The pain was excruciating, and built in intensity by the second. The virus that his former comrade helped create was now infecting every biomechanical life form aboard the ship.

Leoben grabbed his chest, he could feel the synthetic blood boil within him, his lungs started to expand beyond their design capacity. The pain was agonizing as he took one glance around his ship's command center. A number five and number eight model lay writhing in pain on the floor, screaming escaped the mouth of Simon as he lived his last few moments. He crawled over to Lucifer who was now face down on the floor, his circuitry burning, sounds of sizzling and popping filling the room. Leoben looked into the rapidly dimming lights of Lucifer's eyes.

"All… this has…. happened before," he gasped. "…it will happen…again! I will see you…in…the chamberrrrrssss." The cold steel gray eyes closed, and Leoben breathed his last.

"Virus pulse is almost on us! I'm jumping!" yelled Nintius. The raptor jumped away, but would it be far enough?

Captain Matthew Lensherr pulled his viper alongside Nightstalker and Hotdog's vipers. "Gentlemen, we started as a team…lets finish this as one. All wings, target and destroy all Cylon Raiders, we're about to repay the favor done to Ripper and the rest of GALACTICA's attack squadron back at Caprica." Major Jackson "Ripper" Spencer was GALACTICA's CAG prior to the attack on the Colonies. He was commanding 20 Mark VII vipers when they fell prey to two Cylon raiders that transmitted a virus commanding their systems to shut down. The entire attack squadron sat helplessly as they were destroyed one by one.

"Damn straight skipper, its payback time!" replied Hotdog.

"On your wing Hephaestus, just like old times." Said Nightstalker. The three friends punched in their burners and tore after the drifting Cylon raiders, a wall of vipers followed with weapons free. It was a complete rout; Mark Sarnex thought it was like shooting a caged animal. Those raiders that did not drop low into Earth's gravitational pull were ruthlessly destroyed by the immense firepower aligned against them. The virus succeeded in shutting down their systems, the vipers were responsible for their complete destruction.

Nintius' raptor emerged out of the jump without incident and all eyes were on D'Anna. For a few uncomfortable moments she sat unmoving, Nina's heartbeat quickened. William Adama placed his hand on her knee and looked deeply into her eyes. "D'Anna?" Did they jump far enough to escape the pulse; did they do it in time? If something happened to her Lensherr would never forgive him.

"It worked Admiral. Superior job Nina, thank you for giving me the chance to see my family again, if not for your idea to jump me out of range I would have died on that Basestar. I was fully prepared to do so, but glad that I didn't have to."

"Leoben won't be the last." Said Nina.

"No…he won't, but now we have a means to ensure humanity's survival. The pulse transmitter will keep the Cylons at a comfortable distance for the time being; at least it will for any that might be enroute." D'Anna hugged every human in that raptor, she was overwhelmed with the feeling that she now earned her place amongst humanity as an equal. "Nina…please take us home, I want to see my son." Nina smiled and turned to Adama who started to plot the return jump.

While the fighters destroyed the disabled raiders, all three Battlestars unleashed a massive display of firepower on the crippled Basestar. After three minutes of unrelenting attack, the Basestar started to break apart violently. A massive explosion lit up Earth's upper atmosphere, and the remnants of the Basestar that were not vaporized in the explosion burned up as it entered the planet's atmosphere. A roar of celebration erupted on the Battlestars and Earth Defense Command headquarters. For many Earthmen, they had met the Cylon threat and came out on top the first time out. Celebrations across the planet lasted for over a week.

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

After the destruction of the Cylon Basestar, I had ordered Terra-1 to return to Earth for extensive repairs. I am greatly pleased by my old friend Saul Tigh's performance under fire in his own command. He is a credit to the Colonies, the Colonial Military, and now he is a credit to Earth Defense Command. I am proud to call him friend, and to have him serve under my command. He has proven himself an exemplary Battlestar commander, and I foresee a promising future for him, and **the ship he commands. The Excalibur went on to continue her official shakedown cruise, and I am quite certain that she will be well served having Commander Takeda Kenshin at her helm.**

We breathe a sigh of relief at our deliverance from the Cylons, and it could not have occurred without the help of a Cylon whose humanity superseded her programming. Eventually the entire Cylon fleet will find Earth, and I pray that our forces are enough to protect us. Perhaps there are more Cylons with a crisis of conscious much like D'Anna Biers who feel that war with humanity is not worth it. I sincerely hope and pray that there is.

The thirteen Colonies of Kobol have finally been reunited, and slowly but surely, we all come to see ourselves as one tribe of humanity. The future is unfolding before us, and the possibilities are as endless as ideas. May the Lords of Kobol grant that we are worthy.

So say we all!

Peace has graced Earth for the past ten months since the last contact with the Cylons. In this time, exploration of the solar system by manned flights has commenced, and the keel of the carrier/Battlestar hybrid has been laid. Upon its completion, this ship will be larger than the GALACTICA.

Captain Matthew Lensherr was reassigned to reserve status and currently resides on Earth with his son and Cylon wife pregnant with their second child. He is the senior flight instructor at Groom Lake training the next generation of Viper pilots.

Humanity's future has never been brighter.

CHAPTER 18

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

The year is 2012, and it has been just under two years since our last contact with the Cylons. Since then Earth has experienced peace and a startling transformation amongst the populous. Space exploration has proceeded at an amazing pace, and the lost thirteenth colony of Kobol has taken to the stars with an amazing hunger for a knowledge that the twelve colonies have long taken for granted. Two former ships in the fleet have been converted into scientific research vessels that have been tasked with research within the solar system, and a third ship has been reassigned as a luxury liner that for a price allows the citizens of Earth to view the planets up close.

On a military front, the latest Battlestar has entered service. The Battlestar Polaris is the latest Earth Defense Force achievement. A little over six thousand feet in length, the Polaris is much larger than GALACTICA. Like most Battlestars, the **Polaris is a hybrid of carrier and battleship, but her air wing compliment is that of more than three Battlestars consisting of four hundred Mark II and Mark VII vipers that have recently been put in production. In the two years, that the Earth pilots have flown the Mark II it has been decided to advance to the Mark VII in small increments. Countries once antagonistic to each other have become friends, and extreme hunger and poverty is close to being completely eradicated on the planet thanks to the tireless efforts of former Colonial President Laura Roslin's taskforce comprised of skilled specialists from Earth and the Colonies. Earth's future is amazingly bright, and her defense forces strengthen to a razor's edge. While the EDF pales in comparison to the Colonial armed forces prior to the Holocaust, it is making awe-inspiring progress under the circumstances of Earth's level of technological advancement that continues to grow exponentially under our advocacy.**

Twenty-two months ago, we last encountered the Cylons, and one of their own brought about their defeat. D'Anna Biers, the third model created out of a reported twelve models of humanoid Cylons. With the help of Earth scientists, D'Anna was able to replicate a virus that would wreak havoc upon Cylon physiology, both humanoid and the cybernetic versions. We have no idea if the affected Cylons were able to download to new bodies, but the fact that no Cylon presence has been detected in those twenty-two months leaves me to believe that they were unable to.

D'Anna is now pregnant with her second child fathered by Captain Matthew Lensherr, former Silver Spar squadron leader aboard GALACTICA. Captain Lensherr's current assignment is at the EDF Military Academy. These hybrid children will certainly face scrutiny throughout their lives, and their future will most definitely be of great interest to humanity.

Major Nina Nintius slowly opened her eyes, her auburn hair slightly obstructing her view of the clock. 0620 hours and she was still incredibly tired, she instantly regretted the late night in the officer's lounge playing pyramid. Her eyes still bloodshot, the smell of cigars clinging to her like a second skin. Propping herself up on her elbow she glanced over at the sleeping man in her bed. Falcon was snoring up a storm; she suppressed a chuckle and ran her long fingernails gently across his chest. Captain Tony Bastain's eyelids snapped open as he bolted upright, his hand like an iron vise around his new wife's wrist.

"Lighten up on the grip stud; I need that hand to fly a raptor." Said Nina as she peeled his hand off her wrists, if she was in pain she showed no evidence of it. The muscular squadron leader of Hunter Seeker squadron released his grip and apologized. He was not yet accustomed to sharing a bed.

"That was some night; I think I drank way too much." Said Falcon holding his head in his hands. Nina slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of uniform pants.

"Yeah stud you did, but the thankfully I maintained a clear and sober head. I was able to clean out Hotdog and Photon of at least a week's pay." Replied Nina as she gathered her toiletry bag to take the short walk to the pilot's locker room for a shower.

"What's your rush, Nina?" asked Falcon now wiping the sleep from his bloodshot eyes.

"I need to get my ship prepped for a hop over to the Polaris. The old man wants to meet with her commander." Replied Nina. Falcon's brow furrowed as if deep in thought.

"I'm surprised that they put an Earth officer in command of the Polaris over a Colonial officer."

Annoyed at one more interruption of her journey out the door Nina spun around and answered. "There are no Colonial officers love, we're all one big tribe again…we're all 'Earthers' now. Besides, the executive officer was captain of the Rising Star…he does have space experience you know."

"I guess I was expecting someone from GALACTICA to get command." Nina threw open the hatch and stepped outside, a hot shower was what she needed. Taking the short walk to the pilot's latrine, she was surprised to find Lt. Costanza within stripping down to enter one of the shower stalls. Latrines aboard Battlestars were much different from latrines aboard the former Navy vessels of Earth militaries. The sea-faring vessels had separate showering facilities whereas the Colonial military's were gender neutral. Male and female showering in the same room never seemed odd until new crew members from earth were assigned aboard.

"Good morning Hotdog." Said Nina cheerfully as she dropped her bag on the steel bench. Hotdog stood fully naked before her, and was obviously quite hung over from the night before.

"Ah the pyramid demoness has arrived, nice game last night…well played." He grunted as he reached for a bottle of shampoo. Nina kicked off her pants and underwear and stepped into the stall next to him.

"You know Hotdog a little less Sam Adams at the start of the game may keep your mind focused." Laughed Nina as she lathered up her well taut abdomen.

"Frak that Earth beer, not that I don't appreciate the near-infinite selections, but they sure are a far cry from the beer brewed on Libris!" sniffed Costanza expecting some new pilots today, why does it seem that Silver Spar squadron is always taking in the nuggets? This would not happen under Lensherr…ole Matt would have bitched up a storm. Perhaps a word with the CAG is in order."

"I'm sure Starbuck is aware of the assignments for the nuggets. Have you ever considered that they're getting sent your way for a reason?"

"Yeah…I believe that Starbuck is still Fraking pissed off that I cleaned her out of a month's pay not too long ago. This is her revenge! No matter though, Silver Spar is the best damned viper squadron in the fleet, I'll turn these nuggets into Gods-damned fanatics!"

"I know of a couple of other squadron leaders that might disagree with you." Replied Nintius playfully.

"Frak them too, they can smoke my joystick!" laughed Hotdog as he finished his shower. Nintius rolled her eyes and finished getting ready. She had to get her ship prepped for launch, and the old man did not tolerate tardiness from any of his pilots, especially Nina Nintius.

Twenty-two months earlier…  
The thick opaque fluid bubbles and churns like a maelstrom. The body forces itself to the surface, gasping for air, a look of confusion upon his face. The rebirthing facility holds many tanks, only one is active, and only one is surrounded. He coughs, expelling the liquid from his throat and mouth. The words are barely audible; "Beware…virus."

Starboard flight pod; Battlestar GALACTICA Present day.  
"Shooter this is Raptor 1, requesting permission to launch."

"Raptor 1 this is Shooter, you are cleared for launch." Major Nina Nintius-Bastain gently maneuvered her raptor off the deck and made her way down the length of the flight pod into space. Clearing the Battlestar, she set off on her preprogrammed course heading. Two vipers coming alongside immediately caught her attention.

"Betty this is Falcon, Blackjack and I will be your escort to the Polaris." Falcon, a native of Aquaria, he lost his first wife and two daughters in the Cylon attack. His hatred for anything Cylon was absolute, and great effort was made to avoid Captain Matt Lensherr's Cylon wife, the beautiful D'Anna Biers. While he's accepted the fact that she has broken her allegiance to her race and if not for her they would most likely not have reached Earth, or defeated Leoben those two short years ago, still he recoils in her presence. Time does not necessarily heal all wounds.

"Falcon this is Betty…message received, glad to have you along. GALACTICA actual has directed me to inform you that he requests your presence aboard Polaris as well."

"Roger that, Raptor 1." Replied Falcon.

Nina glanced over to Adama who was sitting in the co pilot's seat. He was in his dress grays and looked immaculate in his ribbons and medals. She had come to think of him as a father figure, the two have been through so much since the destruction of the Colonies, and the bond they cemented in that Basestar control room would never be broken. Bonds made in combat were to be expected, bonds formed in close-quarters combat could not be shattered. Nintius was highly proficient in several forms of combat, and the fighting technique displayed by the old man that day impressed her greatly. What she would have given to be assigned to this man in his prime.

After two hours, the journey was soon ending. The three ships from GALACTICA were entering DRADIS range of Earth Defense Command's newest Battlestar…the Polaris. At 6,200 feet long, Polaris was the biggest combat vessel ever built by the Colonies or Earth. It was larger than GALACTICA, and was just as heavily armed. Her primary purpose was to project a lethal viper force, her compliment of Mark II and Mark VII exceeding the combined might of three full-sized Battlestars. A DRADIS warning sounded, Nina quickly glanced at her screens.

"Admiral I have four DRADIS contacts broadcasting EDF transponders." Informed Nintius.

"That would be the CAP for the Polaris." Replied Adama. Four black Mark II vipers with white trim slowly entered their flight path. Nintius switched on her transmitter.

"This is GALACTICA Raptor 1 requesting approach to the Battlestar Polaris."

"GALACTICA Raptor 1-Polaris, you are cleared for approach on upper port landing bay. On behalf of Polaris Actual we would like to welcome you aboard." The four vipers from Polaris formed up with the three ships from GALACTICA forming a diamond around them leading them in. Adama had seen the designs many times, in fact, he had made significant recommendations to the plans, but seeing the finished product in person from the large windscreen of a raptor made his heart race.

"My Gods what a menacing looking instrument of death!" he muttered in admiration. Upon final approach, the four vipers from Polaris broke off and resumed their patrol. Nintius set the 50-ton raptor down light as a feather, the two viper escorts from Blue squadron touched down immediately after her.

After being lowered into the hanger bay, the raptor was taxied to a parking space where Polaris' hanger crew attached refueling hoses to the tank fill. Similar action was taken with the two vipers as the pilots climbed down from their cockpits. An honor guard was stationed to the side of the hanger, and Commander Marcus Vasquez formerly a Lieutenant Colonel in Spain's Army stood between the EDF flag and the Polaris insignia mounted on a light blue flag. Admiral Adama stepped forward and saluted as a high-pitched whistle sounded indicating the arrival of a flag officer.

"Commander Vasquez, permission to come aboard." said Adama.

"Permission granted Admiral, and welcome aboard!" replied Vasquez. Adama extended his hand, and a firm handshake was exchanged between the two men.

"If the interior is as impressive and intimidating as the exterior than I predict that I will be in for a pleasant inspection Commander." Said the Admiral now turning towards his three junior officers at his side. "Commander may I introduce my senior raptor pilot, Major Nina Nintius-Bastain, Major Tony Bastain and Lieutenant Darius Malik of Blue squadron.

"Welcome aboard the Polaris, please follow me and I'll give you a tour of Earth's newest Battlestar. Of course it will be an abbreviated tour, unless of course you want to spend two days touring every deck and compartment." Said Vasquez. Walking across the immaculate hanger bay, Falcon stared in approval at the neat row of jet-black colored vipers with white striping. There were no battle scarring or chipped paint; these vipers were fresh from the assembly line on Earth. The majority of pilots aboard Polaris were new, recently graduated from the academy led by former Silver Spar squadron leader Matthew Lensherr who now was assigned to Earth to run the viper school at Groom Lake in Nevada. His home was GALACTICA, but he wondered what life would be like assigned to the Polaris. The ship was gargantuan in size, four flight pods as opposed to two. She was heavily armed, and her fighter wings provided devastating aerial firepower. Roughly 2,000 feet longer than GALACTICA, she was the largest warship ever built by the Colonies or Earth.

Captain Matthew Lensherr sat at his desk, a stack of folders sat neatly piled to his left, an open personnel folder sat open before him. It was a proficiency report for one flight cadet Kelly Rasputin, a 24-year-old recruit who showed intense promise. Three quarters of the way through her training and she remained his number one student. She was extremely intelligent, comfortable in the cockpit of the training viper, and was very thorough and methodical in most aspects of her training. He was instantly reminded of himself as a cadet at the Colonial Military Academy a little over dozen years earlier. He too was top of his class, and extremely methodical as well, almost too methodical was the concern of some flight instructors. She was demonstrating similar traits that he possessed, and he wondered if he should council her about it or letting it play through, after all…he rose through the ranks and became one of the youngest squadron leaders in Colonial history. Of course had most of the senior pilots not been killed off in the months following the Cylon's sneak attack on the Colonies he might not have risen as fast as he did. Closing her folder, he leaned back, closed his eyes and remembered.

"Viper 271 to Triton requesting emergency approach!"

"Triton to Viper 271, you are cleared for emergency approach to the starboard landing bay, call the ball!"

"Viper 271 has the ball, speed 2.5 bingo fuel." Gripping the controls, Lieutenant junior grade Matthew Lensherr fought to maintain control of his Mark VI viper. System failure warnings sounded loudly, but he was able to block their sound out while acknowledging the severity of the situation. Matt Lensherr had only been assigned to the Battlestar Triton for three months, he graduated top of his class and as a reward was given his choice of assignment. He immediately opted for Battlestar Group 39, a group well reputed for its exceptional viper pilots and command staff. The Triton was under command of Commander James Jonasson.

Twenty minutes earlier.  
Starting on a training exercise amongst Green squadron landed him in the predicament he currently finds himself. A missile run on remote drones was supposed to be routine, but the guidance system on an air-to-air missiles locked onto his viper instead of the remote drone. Kicking in the battle thrusters Matthew Lensherr attempted to outrace the incoming missiles, his viper was not loaded with counter measures known as swallows. He knew this to be futile; the missiles would overtake him in mere moments. DRADIS sweep indicated an asteroid field close by and Lensherr steered his viper toward it at full speed.

"Krypter, krypter, krypter...viper 271 declaring an emergency. I have a training missile locked onto my ship, attempting to evade."

Green squadron's leader reacted immediately. "Green leader to all wings, terminate training exercise immediately…all ships return to Triton. "Green leader to Hephaestus…you have to be prepared to eject, without swallows to deploy you have little chances of outrunning the missile, copy."

"Green leader, Hephaestus…message received. I have an asteroid field on my DRADIS and will attempt to lose it in there." The missile was gaining, and the asteroid field was just ahead now. Lensherr pushed hard against the thruster pedal, he felt like he would push it through the firewall.

On board Triton, the Junior Officer Of the Deck summoned the executive officer and commanding officer to the CIC.

"Sitrep, Lieutenant!" barked the XO.

"Viper 271 has declared an emergency sir, during the training exercise a missile locked onto his viper instead of the decoy drone." Reported the JOOD.

"Viper 271 isn't that the new pilot…Lensherr?" asked the XO.

"Affirmative XO, the squadron leader terminated the exercise and ordered all vipers to land. He's attempting to intercept the missile, but he's too far off and Hephaestus is attempting to lose the missile in the asteroid field."

"Are you Fraking kidding me? That rookie pilot is going to try and navigate an asteroid field…order him to punch out!"

"Hephaestus, Triton…you are instructed to eject immediately! Repeat…eject immediately!"

"Triton, Hephaestus…I'm already within the field, unable to safely eject." Replied Hephaestus coolly. The missile was almost on him, and Lensherr banked his fighter hard to stay close to the much larger asteroids hoping to have the missile strike it. This was risky flying for extremely seasoned veterans, never mind a new pilot. Oddly though, Lensherr did not feel panicked, he knew what he had to do and knew what the outcome would be if he failed.

Commander Jonasson was now entering the CIC. "Commander has the deck…what's happening XO?"

"Rookie pilot declared an emergency, the missile in their training exercise locked onto his viper instead of the decoy drone. Currently he's attempting to lose it in the asteroid field."

"Does the squadron leader have a visual on him?" asked the XO to the JOOD.

"Patch me in with the squadron leader." ordered Jonasson.

"Green Leader, Triton…stand by for Triton Actual."

"Go ahead Actual!"

'What's going on out there, Captain?"

"Air-to-air missile locked onto one of my pilots during the exercise, sir. He's trying to lose it in the asteroid field…holy Frak this kid is going through the asteroid belt at his top speed, I've never seen anything like it!"

Lensherr split his concentration between the asteroids before him and the missile behind him. DRADIS was next to useless due to the debris field. He kept glancing back hoping to get mark one eyeballs on the incoming missile. Matthew Lensherr was flying flawlessly in an environment that was lethal at the speeds he was traveling. He remained absolutely calm, yet alert; a trait that has served him well throughout his life. The newer Mark VII's would soon replace the Mark VI viper he was flying; it had been rumored to be the pinnacle of colonial achievement in avionics. He hoped he would be around to fly one. Two large asteroids at ten o'clock high, it was perfect. Pulling back hard and to the left he aimed his viper for the dead center of both, he would only have one shot at this, the missile was about to crawl up his engines. He roared through the massive rocks, the bottom of his wings scraping against them loudly. The missile impacted against side of the smaller asteroid, the explosion resulted in a tremendous amount of turbulence, a 12 inch piece of jagged metal shrapnel tore a large hole in the fuel tank, it was nothing short of miraculous that an explosion didn't result from it.

The blinding flash temporarily blinded the squadron leader as he desperately attempted to scan the debris field. DRADIS was useless, and he could not pick up a Colonial transponder.  
"Hephaestus, green leader…come in!"

"Green leader, Hephaestus…I'm okay, my viper is still intact. I'm reading a fuel leak, possibly a result of the detonation; I'm clearing the asteroid field now."

"I'm on your wing rookie, let's get back to Triton."

Presently…  
"Viper 271 has the ball, speed 2.5 bingo fuel. Be advised I have numerous system failures across the board." Reported Lensherr, no trace of panic in his voice. Something that did not go unnoticed by Jonasson.

"Captain Lensherr…you wanted to see me sir?" came a distant voice. Lensherr's eyes snapped open, his trip down memory lane interrupted. He sat up straight.

"Ah, Cadet Rasputin, come in." The young woman stepped into the room and stood at attention before Lensherr. "Stand at ease Cadet!" Kelly Rasputin went to parade rest and looked straight ahead. Lensherr flipped through the sheets of paper slowly in the folder that was marker with her name. "Cadet Rasputin…I've been going through your records and I have to say that I am very impressed by your performance in the classroom, flight simulators, and actual flight time in the training viper. You stand at the top of your class…for the moment."

"Sir?"

Lensherr stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning against the corner he folded his arms across his chest and leveled his gaze at her. "Kelly, you have an incredible knack for the stick, one of the few nuggets I've come across that immediately displayed promise. That being said," he paused to sigh. "There are times when textbook flying and a cold, methodical approach to combat will get you killed. You cannot outthink, or 'out cold' a Cylon in combat. There will be times when you have to think outside the box, fly by the seat of your pants, and basically just say Frak it and throw caution to the wind to survive."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Lensherr nodded and she looked directly into his eyes. "Sir, this isn't at all what I expected to hear from the academy's top gun, your reputation for precision flying is well known."

"Precision flying is one thing Cadet, trying to keep your aircraft intact and yourself alive in combat is something entirely different. I can think of a dozen pilots better than I, though even that number may be a tad high." He laughed. Her blank stare was evidence enough that the joke went over her head. "Kelly…I'm a damned good combat pilot, I have well over 200 raider kills since the attack on the Colonies. I have survived this long not just because I fly in a cold and methodical manner, but because I can switch that 'precision' off when confronted by circumstances that manner of flying cannot counter. Adapt…improvise…conquer." Each word stressed for effect. "Don't be afraid to let loose, you may be surprised at the outcome."

"Aye sir."

"Very good Cadet, you're dismissed!" said Lensherr sitting back down at his desk. Rasputin came to attention and spun on her heel exiting the room.

"Molding another future star pilot, mighty Hephaestus?" cooed a familiar voice. Lensherr looked up to see his wife stroll through the door. She was radiant in almost all circumstances; her pregnancy only seemed to intensify it, thought Lensherr.

"If I can keep just one pilot from getting blown out of the stars I'll be happy." He replied. Standing up he walked over to her and embraced her, their lips met for a prolonged kiss. "Where is James?"

"He's with the sitter; I thought we would have a nice lunch to ourselves today." The two drove off to a nearby restaurant on base. One of the few decent places to eat on the installation. Decades earlier, it was determined that there had to be a decent place to eat outside the chow hall for the inhabitants of this super-secret Air Force installation. Within 15 minutes, the two were arriving at Black Hole, a name found quite appropriate for a restaurant on a military installation believed to be ground zero for all things extra terrestrial. After a few minutes going over the menus, Lensherr ordered a fillet mignon with roasted potatoes, and D'Anna ordered a shrimp scampi over angel hair pasta. Matthew Lensherr loved Earth cuisine, it was far superior to most of the dishes on Aerilon, and was about even with most Caprican dishes.

"This group going through the academy is pretty impressive, D'Anna. For the first time in a long time I feel that we may actually be making real progress to rebuilding the might of the Colonies."

"They weren't so mighty in the face of subterfuge, treason and sabotage." Countered D'Anna between bites.

"We will never be taken that way again!" snapped Lensherr. The intensity surprised D'Anna.

"Something on your mind, Matthew?" asked D'Anna.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so defensive."

"You miss being out there, don't you?" said D'Anna gesturing upward with her beautiful green eyes. She knew he loved the challenge of molding new viper pilots, but she also knew his heart was in the seat of a viper and not a classroom.

"And if I was?"

"Matthew. You know I do not have the same 'hang-ups' as human females regarding their spouses. I love having you home; having you close by and being a family, but I also realize that your heart is among the stars. I see you spending hours looking up at the stars out on the patio when James goes to bed."

"The old man thought my talents were better suited to training the next generation of pilots."

"William Adama is a good man Matthew, but he does not hold the keys to your future." The rest of the meal was conducted in idle family chatter, but Lensherr knew his wife was right. He could not remain planet-bound forever.

CHAPTER 19

Major Tony Bastain was highly impressed with the Polaris. The ship, for all of its gargantuan size seemed to glide smoothly through the vastness of space. Compared to the noisy atmosphere of the GALACTICA the Polaris ran deathly silent. A Battlestar, by design was a cross between aircraft carrier and battleship, the Polaris was almost an entirely different concept. Four flight pods, two topside and two beneath the ship housed over four hundred fighters. It was assigned to Commander Tigh's command, and while there were not enough Battlestars to form groups, smaller warships were constructed to supply limited firepower to their assigned Battlestars. Much like destroyers of Earth's past that were assigned to carrier groups. In two years, Admiral Adama went from commanding only the GALACTICA, to having three Battlestars and close to a dozen smaller warships under his overall command. It filled him with pride and purpose to see the fleet rebuilt. Of course, it was very different from the Colonial Fleet, but this was a different fleet, built under his command and incorporated with many of his ideas. This was something that most likely would never have happened under the Colonial military. He was the senior military officer on the planet, and the officer with the most combat experience. His voice carried serious weight, his every spoken word considered a concrete command.

"Not thinking of requesting a transfer are you Tony?" asked Nina coming alongside of him.

"What…give up the opportunity to serve on a fifty year old noisy, smelly rusting warship as opposed to a fresh off the assembly line state-of-the-art Battlestar? Why the Frak would I want to do that?" laughed Bastain.

"I have to admit that it would be tempting." Replied Nina running her hand down the wall of the long hallway they were in, inspecting for dust and impressed not to find any.

"GALACTICA is my home Nina, you don't think I could be that easily swayed by the glitz of a new Battlestar, do you?"

"You Fraking liar, I know the temptation all too well." Laughed Nina. "GALACTICA is indeed old, smelly and obsolete compared to Terra-1 or the Excalibur, but which ship would you trust to protect you against a Cylon assault."

Falcon just smiled, he knew she was right. The three new Battlestars had all the bells and whistles, but GALACTICA had the war wounds. In fifty years of service, she had taken a beating, and still came back for more. The ship had heart, and he doubted he would ever willingly transfer off her.

"What do you think of the new escort ships?" asked Nina.

"Well they couldn't go toe to toe with a Basestar, but they do provide for an agile platform of firepower."

"The old man is in his glory, he finally has 'his fleet.' After being reassigned to GALACTICA after the Valkyrie debacle, he never figured on commanding a Battlestar group. Now he is instrumental in constructing his own fleet. I doubt I could ever transfer from his command."

The two carried on with their inspection of Polaris. Elsewhere in space, another veteran of GALACTICA sat in the cockpit of his viper gliding through space. Lt. Brandon Costanza; call sign Hotdog was piloting his Mk II viper towards Pluto, the planet that was home to Earth's newest outpost. He was protecting a convoy from Earth enroute to the outpost. The three-ship convoy was laden with perishables for the construction crews and building materials, Hotdog had relieved the viper squadron from Earth, and after a quick refuel aboard GALACTICA they had returned to their base. His detail consisted of Aslan and Prometheus.

"Hotdog, Prometheus…are we really needed to baby-sit these guys? I mean we haven't seen a Cylon for almost two years. After the virus we unleashed on their ass I doubt they'd dare show their faces again." Inquired Lieutenant Dennis "sky" Walker over the comline.

"You know better than that Prometheus…the toasters are unpredictable. Never assume that they are down and out. Being toasters, it means they have the capacity to adapt."

"I'm banking that these frakers don't have the balls to come back at us." Added Aslan.

"Well let's hope you're right, but in the meantime we have to get these guys safely to Pluto. This outpost is important to EDC." The outpost under construction on Pluto was a major undertaking. Earth Defense Command had it built as an outer listening post and military hub. There would four squadrons of Mk VII vipers assigned to it as well as a Marine detachment of roughly 100 men and women. Sensitive listening and observation equipment would be utilized and a refueling port was scheduled to be completed in eight months from now. This outpost was at the behest of Admiral Adama, and with many things military, his voice carried a weight of authority. A civilian scientific research station would also be housed on this outpost with research vessels of medium range assigned to it.

With Matthew Lensherr's assignment to Earth, Brandon Costanza was promoted to Silver Spar's squadron leader. Like Hephaestus, Hotdog was a firm believer in constant drilling. He flew as many training missions as fuel allowed. His only headache was Aslan, the very rambunctious, hotshot pilot whose recent issues was 'getting his hands on a new MK VII viper.' GALACTICA's air wing consisted of all brand new Mk II's, and the Mk VII's just recently were going into production. The belief was to train new pilots on the user-friendly Mk II at first. There were very few Mk VII's in service, and only the most able viper pilot piloted those that remained. When Earth started to replace GALACTICA's aging air wing they utilized the specs for the Mk II but incorporated most of the Mk VII's systems with the exception of those that they deemed too complex for rookie pilots, especially those that never flew in space. However, there was a great deal of requests for the newer viper amongst the fleet's seasoned pilots, most of them being former Colonial pilots. Admiral Adama made it clear to his CAG that he would not be replacing perfectly good vipers needlessly. Colonel Tigh stressed the same to his own CAG as well.

.  
Aboard GALACTICA, Captain Kara Thrace call sign Starbuck sat in the officer's lounge drinking a beer. She was off duty until tomorrow evening and planned to relax. The pilot she was romantically involved with joined her, Captain Jack Hoffman call sign Hannibal. They were 2 hours into a game of pyramid, and a thick haze of smoke filled the lounge. Also at the table were Silver Spar's raptor pilot Lt. Jenna St. Lynn call sign Kraken and executive officer Colonel Lee Adama; call sign Apollo.

"Bet is to you Colonel." Said Starbuck as she took a hard pull of her mug. Lee Adama was infamously mean when losing at cards. The smile plastered across his face was evidence that the cards were for once going his way.

With a barely detectible slur to his speech, Apollo spoke up. "I see your fifty and raise you another twenty, Kara." Kraken threw down her hand in disgust.

"I'm out!" she muttered. Hannibal did the same, but with less annoyance. The remaining players threw in the additional twenty and Starbuck demanded that Apollo show his hand. Slowly spreading his cards out before him, he displayed a full pyramid. A surprised Starbuck let out a grunt and threw her cards into the center of the table.

"Fraking lucky bastard!" snarled Starbuck. "I guess the Gods watch out for the drunks and the mentally deficient."

"You are indeed a surly Fraker my dear Starbuck," laughed Apollo. "Perhaps I need to have the chow hall start spiking your dinner with some sedatives." Kara just displayed a derogatory hand gesture in Adama's direction.

"Well I guess that just about does it for me, I'm on duty early tomorrow and need to get some rack time. Good evening to you all." Said Apollo as he wobbled from the table and out of the lounge. Kara Thrace turned towards Hannibal and planted a long kiss on his lips.

"Well Captain, care to join me in the port side observation dome?" purred the CAG.

"Lead and I will follow, Captain." He replied. The two bailed out of the lounge and Kraken found herself alone at the table, with far less money in her pocket than she walked in with. She kicked her feet up onto the table when the hatch opened. In strolled Lancelot and Photon, two of GALACTICA's partners in perversion. She rolled her eyes wondering how much worse can her night be for her. Lancelot plunked down in the seat beside her.

"Ah…a fellow Spar in need of company, it would be my pleasure to join you." Said Lancelot in his deep voice. His eyes were already undressing her.

"Tev, be under no illusion that I won't kick you square in the fraking balls if you keep leering at me like that!" hissed the Raptor beauty.

"Come on now Jenna…we can be friends here. For Gods sake we're fraking squadron mates." Replied Lancelot.

"We are squadron mates, and for some reason it doesn't dawn on you that if for no other reason alone I deserve some fraking respect from you. Get it through your head…you are not getting laid by me now, or ever. Now go away." At that point, Tev just smiled and placed his hand on her knee, but before he could utter a word, Jenna St. Lynn leaped up and landed a right cross to his jaw. "I fraking warned you…"

By this time, Helo was entering the lounge and found himself catching the reeling body of one Lt. Tev Torbeck of Silver Spar squadron. Torbeck's smile turned into a murderous scowl and he wrenched himself free and made for the offending Raptor pilot. Steve Parsec was quick to get between them.

"Let him through Photon, I've got more where that came from." Challenged Kraken.

"Little girl it's time you learned some respect yourself." Snapped Torbeck who was hell bent on getting his hands on her. Helo was quick to place his hands upon Torbeck's shoulders and pulled him back.

"Stand down Lieutenant!" ordered Helo. "Both of you stand down!" he repeated, now looking at Kraken. "What is wrong with you two? By the lords of Kobol, I've never seen two people who needed to get laid any more than you two. Get some fraking shore leave and grab a room together somewhere eh?" Jenna St. Lynn shot a cold gaze towards Helo who stood unfazed.

"I'd sooner sleep with a pack of daggits!" she spat and stormed out of the room.

Helo righted and overturned chair and sat down with a fresh beer. Lancelot and Photon sat down next to him. "You know Lancelot, one of these days she's going to have enough and either bring you up on formal charges or kick the absolute crap out of you." Lancelot chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Before you get too cocky son, I'm going to be the first to tell you that if you mix it up with her, you'll win, but I guarantee you'll know you've been in a fight. She's hell on wheels as I know you know from personal experience, give it a rest before she goes the official route and you end up cooling your heels in GALACTICA's brig for a month or worse. Understand?"

"She's an uppity little thing that needs to be brought back to reality!" snorted Lancelot.

"That may or may not be the case Lieutenant, but as of this moment you will back off. She's a damned good Raptor pilot, and you and the rest of the pilots depend on her. Treat her with the respect she deserves, or you might just get me pissed off." With that, Helo downed his beer and walked back to his quarters to go to sleep.

Lancelot turned to Photon who was lighting up a cigar. "Yo Steve, do you remember when Kraken was assigned to Silver Spar?"

"How can I forget? That had to be one of the hairiest dogfights I ever saw." Replied Steve Parsec exhaling a mouth full of smoke. Three years earlier, almost eight months prior to Earth's discovery the GALACTICA roamed through space with her civilian fleet. The day started the same as every other day…quiet. Lieutenant Felix Gaeta was about ready to start some routine maintenance on his DRADIS board when two signals appeared.  
"Colonel Tigh, I have two contacts on DRADIS, distance 600 km."

"That's awfully close for my liking, set condition one throughout the ship and launch the alert vipers, notify the old man and have the fleet prepare to jump to emergency coordinates." Ordered Tigh. Silver Spar squadron was on duty and most pilots got to their vipers within a minute. Twenty vipers under the command of Captain Matthew Lensherr took to the air and Raptor 3 was launched for airborne warning & control supporting Viper operations. At the controls sat Lieutenant junior grade Jenna St. Lynn, call sign Kraken. This was her first combat mission.

Colonel Tigh kept his eyes glued to the DRADIS screen. "Lieutenant Gaeta has the contacts advanced on our location?"

"Negative sir, they are holding at 600 km. Hephaestus should have visual contact in four minutes."

"Raptor 3-Hephaestus…are you picking up anything other than the two contacts?" Kraken glanced over to her ECO who shook his head in the negative.

"Hephaestus this is Kraken, we're just picking up those two bogies, you should have a visual on them in 90 seconds."

Lensherr brought his viper on an intercept course for the two unidentified contacts. His assistant squadron leader was tight on his port wing. Lt. Mark Sarnex, call sign Nightstalker was Lensherr's closest friend and trusted confidant. They had faced the Cylons countless times in their two-year retreat from the Colonies, and Lensherr could not imagine entering combat without Nightstalker.

"Keep a sharp eye Nightstalker, something is wrong here, I'm trying to identify but getting low-level interference. Warbook is useless at this point." Said Lensherr over the comline.

"I've got you covered skipper, all wings are in tight formation and paired with their wingmen. If we can just get the rookie to identify these guys we'd be all set." Said Sarnex referring to Kraken none-to-subtly. Lensherr strained his eyes to try to pick up the spacecraft that should now be in range.

"What the Frak…Cylon raiders, two of them." Said Lensherr to nobody in particular. "All wings, Hephaestus…two enemy fighters at eleven o'clock high, weapons free. Raptor 3 pull back to a safe distance and let us handle the raiders, inform the GALACTICA of the situation." Ordered Lensherr as he toggled his weapons selector safety switch off.

"Only two skipper, must be a recon."

"Well lets get them before they jump out of here and give away our location…Kraken I want you to jam all known Cylon frequencies immediately!" Kraken turned her head to relay the message to her ECO when she saw his startled look.

"Multiple DRADIS contacts…It's off the Fraking scale Lieutenant, I have at least 80 contacts all around us, unmistakably Cylon attack craft."

"Raptor 3 to Hephaestus, Cylon attack craft jumping into our immediate perimeter, I have at least 80 contacts."

The blinding flashes and explosions buffeting his viper was a telltale sign that Silver Spar was in deep trouble, heavily outnumbered and caught flatfooted. "Kraken jump back to GALACTICA immediately and call for reinforcements…all wings engage enemy fighters and for Frak's sake stick close to your wingman!" yelled Lensherr over the coms.

"Not my kind of odds boss!" quipped Lt. Steve Parsec, call sign Photon as he banked Torpedo in perfect unison with his wingman Lancelot's viper. Pulling the trigger, he stitched a raider topside causing it to explode.

"It's never your kind of odds!" retorted Lt. Brandon Costanza, call sign Hotdog.

"Knock off the chatter ladies and stay sharp." Said Hephaestus tersely.

Kraken had pulled back hard and to the right on her controls as the ECO spooled up the FTL drive to jump out of there. An explosion rocked the Raptor, and Jenna St. Lynn struck her head on the reinforcement band over the windscreen. A small gash opened up, and she could feel the warm trickle of blood slowly dribble down from her hairline.

"Damage report!"

"FTL's are fluctuating, do not jump…do not jump!" yelled her ECO.

"Frak!" she screamed. "Hephaestus, Raptor 3…my FTL's are offline, I can't jump away."

"Get the hell out of here Jenna, you aren't armed and there aren't enough of us here to adequately protect you." Ordered Lensherr. He felt badly, he knew she was a rookie on her first mission, but his squadron was getting the hell kicked out of them, she would have to use all of her training, skill and luck to survive.

Aboard the GALACTICA, long-range DRADIS scan revealed the extra raiders jumping their single viper squadron. Admiral Adama was now entering the CIC and Tigh began his Sitrep. "Silver Spar squadron was launched to investigate a DRADIS contact, possibly Cylon. They intercepted two raiders and almost immediately were jumped by at least four more squadrons. They're in the mother of all dog fights right now; I was just going to scramble remaining squadrons." Said Tigh.

"Make it happen XO." Replied Adama stepping up to the DRADIS console. "Admiral has the deck! Lieutenant Gaeta has the fleet captains signaled ready to jump to emergency coordinates?"

"Yes sir, all ships signal green and are standing by to jump."

"Order them to jump to emergency coordinates by sequence, the Rising Star and Stryker are armed and will maintain fleet protection until we arrive on station." Ordered Adama. Blue squadron cleared the GALACTICA and was traveling on full turbos to assist the heavily outnumbered Silver Spar squadron.

Photon had taken out six raiders in under two minutes; he and his wingman Lancelot were feeling particularly aggressive and fought with an intensity reserved for those that understood that one slip up against these kinds of odds meant certain death. Lt. Steve Parsec stole glances around his cockpit window at the battle going on around him. The deadly cannon fire seemed to form a mesmerizing latticework of deadly light. He was jolted back to reality when a viper exploded off his port side.

"We just lost Slaughterhouse." Yelled Lancelot over the comline. "Where the Frak is Blue squadron, we're getting our asses handed to us out here?" Hearing the exchange over the comline, Kraken glanced at her ECO who was tracking the incoming relief vipers. Raptor 3 had managed to back away from the fight unnoticed.

The Electronic Counter Measures Officer verified that the Calvary was two minutes out. "Hephaestus, Kraken…you have relief vipers 2 minutes out."

"This thing is going to be over in two minutes…I'm almost out of ammunition and running low on fuel." Complained Lancelot.

"Knock it off already; keep your head in the game." Snapped Lensherr. "Kraken-Hephaestus…clear me through to Apollo." The connection was made and Lensherr spoke quickly. "Apollo- Hephaestus…most of my squadron is running low on fuel and almost empty on ammo."

"Hephaestus- Apollo…get back to GALACTICA, we'll cover your six. By the time you get back the fleet will have jumped to safety."

"Roger that Apollo. Silver Spar squadron this is Hephaestus, return to GALACTICA immediately." Silver Spar squadron broke free of the fight and made their way back to GALACTICA bruised and battered. Three pilots and their vipers would not be returning from battle this day.

Lt. Gaeta logged the last civilian ship jumping away and turned to the executive officer. "Colonel all ships have successfully jumped to emergency coordinates, Silver Spar squadron is on final approach."

"Signal Hephaestus to land his squadron and issue a recall order to Apollo…combat landings authorized."

"Aye sir!" Gaeta opened up a secure channel to Apollo. "Apollo-GALACTICA…you are instructed to return to GALACTICA immediately, combat landings authorized."

Blue squadron was inflicting serious punishment on the numerically superior raiders; the Cylons had been in prolonged battle and were in dire need of refueling. The fact that they remained on station was evidence enough to the seasoned Apollo that a Basestar would soon be arriving. Aboard Raptor 1, Nina Nintius and her ECO were directing the battle. She heard the recall order and plotted her return course to GALACTICA. The Battlestar was already in jump prep and would be unable to meet them halfway so the run back would be a hairy one. She was hoping that the raiders would be too low on fuel to give pursuit, but she was not ready to take for granted that the Cylons would not chase and just get collected by the incoming Basestar when they ran out of fuel.

"Apollo to all vipers, return to GALACTICA full burn…combat landings are authorized on both landing bays. Good work, and lets all get back in one piece." Ordered Apollo. Most of Blue squadron was made up of Mk VII vipers; they were far more agile than the Mk II was and faster. They retreated the field of battle and proceeded full speed back to their Battlestar. Surprisingly, the raiders reversed course and regrouped. A minute later a Cylon Basestar jumped into the quadrant and recovered its air-wing.

Back in the present, Admiral Adama and his entourage had completed their inspection of Polaris and were enroute back to GALACTICA. The old man tended to commandeer Raptor controls whenever the opportunity arouse, being a former Raptor pilot he missed the feeling of flying, and took every opportunity to do so when off the GALACTICA.. Major Nintius was extremely protective of her Raptor and usually completed most repairs herself, or at least monitored closely repairs she was clearly not capable of doing. She sat back and let Adama at the controls of the raptor she had come to feel was her own personal property, not that she had much of a choice. Adama was a great pilot in his day, so she felt little anxiety. This was therapy for him, and she was happy to accommodate him.

"Doing fine sir." Said Nintius looking to start a conversation.

"Were you expecting anything less, Betty? Hell I was flying these things when you were still in elementary school." Chided Adama towards the woman he considered like a daughter.

"Not at all, sir. So what do you think of Polaris?"

"An amazing ship would be an understatement. Just the sheer size of it dwarfs anything ever built by the Colonies or Earth. Had the choice been mine, I would have opted for two additional Mercury-class Battlestars. They would have been built sooner, and would not require additional support ships to protect it." Replied Adama.

"I'm not following you sir."

"The Polaris is an extremely large warship. Just the number of pilots on board itself is incredible, not to mention the crew needed to run it. An unnecessary risk and expenditure in my opinion. Unfortunately the decision is not entirely my own, there are people I answer to in EDC, and they were hell bent on this 'super carrier' for some reason. I've stressed the need for more Battlestars, but the reality is that Earth is only one world, we don't have eleven other planets to get manpower from to create the type of fleet we had back in the Colonies. Eventually the Cylons will return, and we can't assume they won't find a way to counter our anti-Cylon virus."

"Three Battlestars, a super Battlestar/carrier hybrid and a dozen support ships…we're growing by leaps and bounds sir!"

"Eventually we will reach a limit. The Mercury-class Battlestars are smaller than Colonial-built ones. The GALACTICA is almost sixty years old, and while I am sure she will last much longer, there is only so much you can upgrade. I have no doubts that the Cylon war machine is always upgrading. I estimate that we can fully equip four more Mercury-class Battlestars at best within the next six years."

"Well we can always get President McGregor to issue a Presidential edict to get procreating post-Fraking-haste in order to build up our population for future military personnel." Laughed Nintius. Adama slowly turned his head, eyebrow arched.

"The scary thing about you Nina is that I have no idea if you're serious about that or not." Laughed Adama. "Either way, Polaris was built and she is indeed a cosmic wrecking machine. I would love to see the look on the face of the first Basestar commander that encounters her. Was it just me, or did it seem that Falcon was in his glory on that ship?"

"Tony is a good man, and one of our best pilots. Naturally, he would want to check out the latest and the greatest. I thought he was going to cream his shorts when he got eyeballs on those jet black Mk VII's." William Adama spent his entire adult life in the military and was quite used to coarse language that permeated all branches of the service, still he always found himself surprised at Nina Nintius' endless cache of crude euphemisms. Catching his gaze, she instinctively smiled and averted her eyes. "Sorry sir!"

"Lords of Kobol you don't change," laughed Adama. "Make sure you never do either!" ordered Adama.

CHAPTER 20

Forty light years from Earth's solar system a phalanx of Cylon Basestars glide through space. Within the lead Basestar, a lone Leoben copy sits in a room flanked by two centurions. His face expressionless and his demeanor calm. The door slides open and four humanoid Cylons enter. A Leoben, Cavil, Doral and a redheaded 6 model. They stood before the seated Leoben.

The standing Leoben was the first to speak. "Welcome back brother." The seated Leoben glanced up and merely nodded. The Six sat down opposite Leoben and spent a moment studying him.

"Your download was a near thing Leoben, tell us…what made you position a heavy raider equipped with a portable resurrection chamber outside of the solar system containing seven planetary bodies?"

A thin smile appeared across his face, the first sign of emotion since his resurrection. "I believe I had a…hunch." Replied Leoben.

"You said you had a 'hunch?' Since when do Cylons have a hunch?" questioned the Six.

"Why am I being denied free access to the ship? Why am I being…detained?" Said Leoben as he glanced at the two centurions.

"We were hoping you could provide some answers to some disturbing questions." Countered Doral. "What happened to the Cavils aboard your ship? What was your reasoning to attempt to assume a leadership role across your entire series?"

Leoben stood up to look Doral squarely in the eyes. "We are an Empire, Doral. We are the most powerful force in the universe, and empires are not maintained by consensus, force and singular leadership and vision maintain them."

"Did you murder Cavil, and then box his remaining copies?" asked Six.

"No…I killed them all and sent the bodies out of the airlock. Cavil was a direct threat to my mission and authority. I could not allow his opposition to continue." Said Leoben coldly. The lone Cavil model that remained silent throughout the entire time now spoke up.

"Are we now becoming no better than the humans, murdering our own?"

"I decided that if we were to successfully locate and eradicate the last remnants of humanity than we would have to proceed in a manner that we had not attempted prior. Singular leadership throughout the empire is needed, there are twelve models, with only five unidentified, and not all of those known seven models agree on the human problem."

The other Leoben spoke up. "With consensus becoming increasingly difficult, we decided to assume complete control across the empire in order to speak with one voice, to strike with one fist. To carry out God's will!"

"What happened to your ship?" pressed Cavil.

"It was destroyed by an intricately designed virus created by the traitor three that was responsible for the Colonial fleet destroying our outpost three years ago. The three model had help…from Earth." He spoke the last word slowly to let the effect sink in.

"Earth?" said Doral surprised. "The Colonials found Earth?"

"Yes, and they have been busy rebuilding their military. The have constructed two Mercury-class Battlestars, much smaller than GALACTICA for reasons unknown to me, and have succeeded in creating at least 12 squadrons of vipers."

"What are their intentions?" asked six.

"We captured a Raptor, and interrogated its pilot and ECO. The pilot was more cooperative than the ECO, and she revealed that Earth had openly provided sanctuary to the fugitives. In return, they were beneficiaries to Colonial technology that was far more advanced than their own. Adama now commands a combined Earth-Colonial military, and his sole purpose is to build their offensive and defensive capabilities."

"To extract revenge, perhaps?" asked Cavil.

"Anything is possible. The colonists now breath clean air, treads real soil beneath their feet, and enjoys their pathetic lives free from the confines of cold space. There are Cylons that believe that the colonists wish to live in peace, but the threat of retribution is real, and it is my intention to eradicate that threat."

"What about this virus?"

"It is far-reaching and lethal in its entirety. Even with all of my technological and specific preplanning for a long range downloading I barely made it. The traitor three has armed them with a means for our extermination."

"Why would she do that?" asked Doral.

"According to the captured raptor pilot, she did so to protect the life of her child, and human lover. She most likely knew that her entire series was boxed after she aided the fugitives at the outpost."

"She gave birth to a child?" said Six excitedly.

"She gave birth to a male child." Replied Leoben. "The next step in our evolution will depend on these hybrid offspring; it is the will of the one true God."

"We must take possession of the child, and its mother." Said Cavil.

"At this point, returning to Earth may prove problematic. That virus was broadcast from the surface, and incapacitation and death is almost immediate." Informed Leoben.

"We cannot assume that they have not devised a way to broadcast their virus from a mobile platform. We have to get to Earth covertly." Said Doral "In the meantime, what are we to do with you, Leoben."

"You can follow me." Replied Leoben. Our survival and continued supremacy depends on one leader, one vision."

"That is one opinion Leoben; it is not shared by every Cylon, though I would be lying if I stated I find no logic in your conclusion. This topic will be debated at length at a future point. Count on that!"

Back on board the GALACTICA, Major Nintius-Bastain had just finished stowing her flight suit and was heading for her quarters when she ran into Kara Thrace. "Hey Starbuck, how are you?"

'No complaints Betty, I'm off duty and on my way to grab some chow with my man."

"How is Hannibal?"

"Slow and steady." Replied Starbuck with a devilish wink. "Things going quite well between us, and I'm amazed at how well he's adapting to life aboard a Battlestar."

"Don't forget it's all new to them, what were the chances of him and all the rest making it into outer space prior to our arrival. What we take for granted is a dream come true for most of them." Said Nina. "You two make a great couple Kara, I'm happy for you both."

"As do you and Falcon, I have to admit you never struck me as the marrying type, but the two of you make it look quite easy."

"Yeah, it's great. Falcon couldn't ask for a more perfect wife." Laughed Nina.

"You hear about the newbies that are supposed to be coming in today?" asked Starbuck.

"No. Who are they?"

"Some non-coms and two viper jocks."

"Viper jocks, eh? Most likely replacing the two from Silver Spar squadron that the old man transferred back to Earth. What a nightmare those two turned out to be, Hotdog had his hands full with them. Said Nintius.

"Fraking clowns had no business being assigned to a viper, much less a Battlestar. The knuckle-draggers couldn't keep up with the repairs to the deck that needed to be done every time they landed."

"When are they due?"

"Sometime before 1800 hours." Replied Starbuck.

"Well I'm sure I'll get around to meeting them, I'm going to grab some chow with Falcon. I'll talk to you later."

"Good night Nina!"

In the pilot's ready room, Captain Brandon Costanza was going over the personnel jacket of his two new pilots. With him was Silver Spar's assistant squadron leader Steve Parsec, call sign Photon.

"What do you think Steve?" asked Hotdog.

"I think there is some promise here, both are aviators with one having an extensive military background and both with spotless records. A little different than the two jokers the Admiral sent packing."

"Gods I hope so. I'm getting too old to nursemaid these rookies. I'm surprised Hephaestus graduated those guys, it seemed that the longer they were here the worse they got."

"Space affects different people in different ways, those two were probably good atmospheric pilots, and it's impossible to gauge how space flight will affect a person over time." Hotdog contemplated his ASL's comment; Steve Parsec was probably the best pilot in the Spars, and one of the best aboard the GALACTICA. His observations held weight.

"True, well the two newbies are due within the hour; I'd like you to be on hand when they land."

"Consider it done skipper." Costanza closed the personnel jackets and placed them in a leather carrier embossed with Silver Spar's insignia. He departed the room and went to his quarters.

1800 hours  
"GALACTICA this is viper 624, requesting permission to land."

"Viper 624, GALACTICA…you are cleared to land in the starboard landing bay, call the ball."

"Viper 624 has he ball, starboard bay." The viper was a brand new Mark VII, and it touched down flawlessly on the starboard-landing bay. Once the magnetic locks engaged on the elevator, the viper was lowered into the hanger below. Viper 667 followed suit behind it.

With the engines shut down and helmet removed, Lieutenant Anastashia Liathain, call sign Orion climbed out of the cockpit and onto the deck. She took a long look around the cavernous hanger bay, a look of satisfaction spread across her face. Standing at 5'3" and 120 pounds, she had been an aviator in the United States Navy, flying the P-3 Orion; a land-based, long-range anti-submarine warfare (ASW) patrol aircraft. With the end of Earth hostilities, most military pilots across the world were encouraged to enter the viper-training academy in the new Earth Defense Command. Anastashia Liathain graduated second in her class and was given high praise from the lead academy flight instructor, Captain Matthew Lensherr. She would be assigned to the air wing he once commanded. Her dark red hair was pulled back tightly in a long ponytail, a style she was accustomed to but she was surprised at the less-restrictive hair lengths that Admiral Adama allowed in the fleet he now commanded.

A crew chief made her way over to Orion and welcomed her aboard. She watched closely as her Mk VII viper christened Red Lancer was immediately refueled and inspected by the deck gang. After a being given a brief set of directions to the CAG's quarters, Orion walked off the hanger deck. Her flight bag was taken aside and would be delivered to her new quarters at the first opportunity. Within a 15-minute walk, Orion stood outside the quarters of the GALACTICA's CAG. She rapped twice on the metallic door.

"Enter!" came the voice from within. Walking through the door, she entered a medium-sized room that was Spartan and brightly lit. A dry erase board hung on the bulkhead behind a desk with the names of pilots. The board was split into three sections titled Blue squadron, Silver Spar and Raptors. She caught a glimpse of her name at the bottom of the Silver Spar list.

"Lieutenant Anastashia Liathain reporting for duty." Said Orion from the position of attention. She held a crisp salute, which was immediately returned from Starbuck who was standing to the side of the status board, a file with Liathain's name on it in his free hand. Sitting on a small sofa to the side was Captain Brandon Costanza, call sign Hotdog, Silver Spar's squadron Leader.

"Welcome aboard the GALACTICA Lieutenant, please…stand at ease." Replied Starbuck sitting down in her high-backed chair. She stood staring at the female officer before her as if sizing her up. Not very tall she thought to herself, but very attractive and obviously in good shape. This was something she was very impressed with regarding members of Earth military, especially the officers she came to know from the United States and the United Kingdom. The physical fitness requirements were extreme.

Many of the British SAS and US Rangers and US Marines made up the ranks of the former Colonial Marine units. By strict Colonial requirements, most Colonial Marines stood over six feet tall, the average CM standing at 6'4 and 250 pounds of pure muscle. They were affectionately referred to as 'Gorillas.' The introduction of a more diverse group of US Marines and other Earth Special Forces units rounded off the newly reformed Marine unit nicely. While some of the soldiers of these various units complained about being referred to as Marines, they eventually relented and strove to create a unique and professional reputation for their newly formed service branch. Only the best of Earth aviators were invited to attend the initial viper-training classes at first. Teaching atmospheric pilots how to fly a star fighter was a tremendous challenge, and only the best would be taught at first. For the past year, Orion was assigned to an Earth-based fighter squadron, and she had recently requested a Battlestar assignment.

"Lieutenant, you've come highly recommended by Matthew Lensherr and your former commanding officers from the Navy, reading through your service records and training jacket I have to say I am impressed." She pauses for effect and stares hard at her. "And THAT does not happen often!" She stood at parade rest with eyes straight ahead. "After consultation with Captain Costanza it has been decided to assign you to Silver Spar squadron." She glanced to her left, "Hotdog?" Captain Brandon Costanza slowly stood up and walked over to Orion.

"Welcome to Silver Spar squadron, Lieutenant!" Said Costanza extending his hand. She averted her gaze to meet Hotdog's and took his hand firmly.

"Thank you sir, it's an honor to be aboard!" replied Liathain.  
"You flew reconnaissance aircraft I understand, do you know Branwen from Terra-1?" He was referring to Lt. Anghard Beynon, whose call sign was Branwen. The Welsh beauty was a former Nimrod 2000 pilot assigned to 206 Squadron, RAF Kinloss.

"We traveled infrequently in the same military/professional circles prior to your arrival on Earth sir. She had a respectable reputation in recon circles if I recall correctly."

"So I hear, though I'm hoping you're a little less hot-headed as she is."

"I can assure you that I will make no waves aboard GALACTICA, sir!"

"Well unless the CAG has nothing further, you are dismissed and can start unpacking your belongings. You will be sharing a cabin with Lt. St. Lynn, our assigned Raptor pilot. Her call sign is Kraken." Glancing at Starbuck who shook her head, Hotdog dismissed his new pilot. Orion came to attention, saluted and turned on her heel and exited the cabin. Once the door sealed shut Hotdog glanced over to Starbuck.

"She has a great ass!" quipped Hotdog. Starbuck chuckled and shook her head wearily.

"I didn't notice!" she deadpanned. "On a professional level I think she'll do fine, Hephaestus really talks her up."

"Hephaestus is usually blinded by feminine beauty!' retorted Hotdog.

"But his eye for a good pilot is flawless, and you fraking know it." Said Starbuck walking over to a sideboard. She poured two small snifters of brandy, handing one to Hotdog who downed it in one shot

"Alright Hotdog, I've got things to do…get out of here! Hotdog finished his drink and exited the cabin. He headed down to the hanger to 'check on things.' A habit he acquired from Nightstalker when he was still aboard. He missed his friend, and wished they were still assigned to the same squadron. Captain Mark Sarnex was now commanding his own air-wing aboard Terra-1, Werewolf squadron had gained a strong reputation in combat against the Cylons, and he could not think of a better man to lead them.

Back on Earth, former US President Colin McGregor was now the President for the entire planet. His ascension was almost assured when the Colonial fleet arrived and worked through him exclusively in their transition period. Many world leaders who had already viewed The United States and his presidential predecessor unfavorably initially resented this. Colin McGregor was well liked and respected across the political divide, and he was very different from his predecessor who launched a questionable war on a Middle East country years before. He had worked tirelessly with former Colonial President Laura Roslin to make the transition to Earth as smooth as possible for the remnants of the twelve colonies. Over their short span of working together, the two presidents had become close, with rumors of romance flowing just beneath the surface. The two met for a private dinner twice a week at the White House, which was now the seat of Earth leadership. They were just finishing a meal of roasted quail. A white-clad steward refilled Roslin's glass of dry white whine.

"You look beautiful tonight, Laura. These dinners with you make me very happy." Said McGregor.

"Thank you Colin, have you always known the right things to say to a woman?" she replied smiling.

"I always thought I was a bit shy around women, but being around you makes me feel so at ease, so happy and contented and I instantly miss you when you leave." The two pushed back from the table and sat on a sofa before the huge fireplace, several large logs burned brightly in the old fireplace.

"I'm happy to be here with you, I have to admit that the last few years had not left me with much time to pursue personal pleasures, but you make me happy as well." Replied Roslin, her green eyes sparkling in the light cast from the fireplace. McGregor took her wine glass and gently placed it on the antique coffee table before them. Turning back to Laura he took her hand, squeezing gently he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. She did not pull away.

CHAPTER 21

**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**

It has been my distinct honor and pleasure to be tasked with the creation of Earth's new defense fleet. The Battlestar Terra-1 under the command of Colonel Saul Tigh has been designated Battlestar Group 2. Under his command is the new super-Battlestar carrier hybrid Polaris, and four Destroyers. Much like the destroyers of Earth's navies prior to our arrival; these destroyers are designed to be fast and maneuverable yet long-endurance warships intended to escort larger vessels in a **fleet or battle group and defend them against smaller, short-range but powerful attackers. Battlestar Group 1 contains the GALACTICA; flagship of Earth's defense force and the Battlestar Excalibur under the command of Commander Takeda Kenshin, along with four Destroyers as well.**

It is my intention to have four Battlestar groups fully staffed by the year 2015. It would be optimum to have three Battlestars per group, but limited numbers of trained military personnel to full staff even a smaller scale Battlestar restricts us. With Earth being the only source of potential recruits (as opposed to the former 12 colonies), it will be decades before the Earth Defense Fleet is anywhere near the strength level of the former Colonial fleet.

With GALACTICA's air wing filled and the ship supplied, we are about to begin our patrol of the outer rim of our solar system. We will be passing within range of Earth's newly constructed outpost on Pluto, this outpost will be a critical first line of defense in this sector. There has been no contact from the Cylons, and it is my hope that it will remain so. The EDF is a far from ready in defending humanity in the face of the Cylon armada that our intelligence predicts they have. With luck, we will be given time to augment our defenses.

Lieutenant Anastashia Liathain had just finished stowing her personal items when the hatch opened. Her roommate, Lt. Jenna St. Lynn walked in to find a stranger in her cabin. "Orion I presume?" asked the raptor pilot. Liathain extended her hand.

"Anastashia Liathain…you must be Jenna." Kraken took hold of her hand and shook vigorously.

"Welcome aboard the bucket Orion." Replied St. Lynn.

"The Bucket?" asked Orion with an arched eyebrow.

"A derisive nickname in some circles, a term of endearment in others." She replied.

"Well this is a dream come true for anyone from Earth; just the chance to actually travel out into space, never mind on a massive spaceship, or flying a star fighter is a dream. This is something out of Star Trek for God's sake." Laughed Orion.

"Star Trek?"

"A popular science fiction show, it was a series of space exploration, years ahead of it's time. Before your arrival, space travel like this was the stuff of fantasy."

"Well I guess Colonial technology isn't so bad after all. Well it's good to see another female pilot on board, Gods know there aren't enough of them to fend off some of the viper jocks who can't keep it in their pants. Watch out for Lancelot, that pervert won't wait long to make a move for you."

"Nothing a good kick in the balls won't solve." Replied Liathain with an evil grin.

"Funny you should mention that." Laughed Kraken. The two knew that they would easily become friends, the two had much in common.

Captain Brandon Costanza nearly ran into the new pilot who was just about ready to knock on the open cabin door. He pulled up fast and gave the pilot before him a once over. "Are you just going to Fraking stand there like a statue or get the hell out of my way, lieutenant?" The man before him did not look a day over 20, and if he had hair one between his legs Hotdog thought he'd be surprised.

"Lieutenant Scott Hopkins reporting for duty, sir!"

"Hopkins? Didn't you come aboard at the same time as Lt. Liathain? That was over a fraking hour ago, where the hell have you been rookie?" spat Costanza as he closed the gap between the two. He was now about two inches away from the much shorter pilot, who was now fidgeting like a daggit having to go to the bathroom.

"The deck chief needed…." Costanza cut him off.

"Lieutenant Hopkins do you know what the maximum range of an excuse is?"

"No sir." Stammered the young pilot.

"ZERO! THE MAXIMUM RANGE OF A FRAKING EXCUSE IS ZERO!" Yelled Brandon Costanza. "Now get the hell out of my face, stow your gear and report to the CAG. IF you don't know where she is than you had best fraking find her post haste!" The rookie lieutenant turned on his heel and bolted down the hallway. Costanza let out a laugh and shook his head. "Starbuck is going to eat that kid alive…what a wonderful start to the day."

In the CIC, the Admiral was relieving his executive officer. William Adama sat down in his command chair and shot a quick glance over to a nearby ensign who immediately produced a large ceramic mug with a 2010 Army-Navy Football Game insignia  
Stenciled on it. The mug, filled with the admiral's preferred blend of dark-roasted coffee was steaming hot.

Captain Felix Gaeta was receiving a message over the fleet com lines. "Admiral, Excalibur is off our port stern and is signaling ready for departure. Our destroyer escorts have taken their positions."

"Thank you captain, inform Commander Kenshin that we will set sail for Pluto, patrol speed." Ordered Adama.

"Aye sir."

The GALACTICA turned 90 degrees and increased her speed; the smaller Mercury-class Excalibur was positioned farther back on her port side. The destroyers took up positions on the outer perimeters. These destroyers were heavily armed with point defense turrets, and could throw up an incredible amount of anti-aircraft fire. They were no match for a Cylon Basestar, but their task was not to engage the heavily armed warship of the Cylon fleet. They were strictly support for the Battlestar, engaging whatever aircraft got through a viper spearhead. One of these ships easily fit into the landing bay of the GALACTICA, and possessed a compliment of 200 officers and enlisted men.

Earth Defense Fleet Viper Training Academy.

Matthew Lensherr was preflight checking his viper. This would be the final hop for this training class. As was his custom, he always flew the final training mission with his nuggets. Nemesis was running at peak efficiency, while he fully trusted the academy flight line crews to inspect, repair, and maintain all vipers, he always supervised major repairs, or refits. Most of the deck gang respected his attention to detail, and there were seldom feelings of negativity or resentment towards him for his constant double-checking of his personal viper. Nemesis had served him well in battle over the years; she was like a well-worn comfortable shoe that he could never contemplate replacing.

Hephaestus was the call sign stenciled in bright red letters under the canopy on both sides of the fuselage. He earned his viper wings in a Mk VII viper, but when the Cylon attack left all of GALACTICA's Mk VII vipers destroyed, he was forced to fly the antiquated Mk. II. Over the years; he had grown used to the Mk. II, and even though all of the Mk. II's constructed on Earth incorporated many of the Mk. VII's systems, Matthew Lensherr remained loyal to his and shunned the offer to receive one of the newest Mk. VII's.

Content with the preparedness of ship for flight he handed the checklist clipboard to his crew chief kneeling on the ladder next to him. He was guided onto the flight line, and Lensherr cast a last look at the nuggets lowering their canopies preparing for their final flight. The roar of the engines was deafening, this was music to Lensherr's ears. The control stick vibrated in his grip and the long runway of Groom Lake, otherwise known as Area 51 lay before him. Releasing the brake, he taxied into position.

"Hephaestus-Tower…you are cleared for take off on runway 40 south."

"Tower-Hephaestus…roger runway 40 south." The viper careened down the long runway and took to the skies. Hephaestus was in his element. At 20,000 feet, his sleek viper basked in the bright sunlight. Lensherr loved atmospheric flight, and took advantage of every opportunity to fly. The solitude soothed him, and the beauty of magnificent buttes and canyons. The Tonopah Test Range lay beneath him, this was once home to the first F-117 stealth fighter squadron, prior to its being moved to Holloman AFB in New Mexico. Lensherr devoted hours to studying the military jet fighters of Earth's recent past. Even though their most advanced fighter was painfully inferior to a Colonial Viper, he still had deep admiration for these magnificent fighters.

He banked his viper hard port and the sun was now in his six o'clock position. He visually spotted a squadron of vipers climbing from the surface in near perfect formation; the sight immediately triggered old memories.

Ten years earlier…  
Six Colonial vipers from the Battlestar Triton flew in tight formation through the gas cloud. DRADIS was useless, and visibility was abominable. Each pilot maintained their speed and position, the marker lights on the dorsal and wingtips the only guide of how close they were to each other. Green squadron had been tracking four distinct DRADIS contacts that were suspected of smuggling. War with the Cylons was long over, and the Colonial fleet found itself playing the part of civilian law enforcement in space. The craft they were following consisted of one transport ship that was presumably smuggling illegal drugs and heavy weaponry, and three smaller fighter craft, most likely old Mk I vipers long sold for scrap. They had been refitted with more powerful engines, and 20 mm cannons to replace the two military issued MEC-A6 30mm Thraxon forward-firing kinetic energy weapons that the military removed before selling the ship to civilian agencies flying protection.

"Green team this is Green leader, keep you eyes sharp and maintain your intervals. These pirates have grown far too accustomed to not being pursued through the Hala Nebula by the long arm of the law. It's past time we showed these scumbags who controls this sector."

The Hala Nebula lay at the farthest reach of the Colonial star sector. The nearest colony was Tauron, already a thorn in the side to the Admiralty. Law enforcement on Tauron generally ignored the smuggling profession in their sector, rumor was that they were receiving generous "tribute" from the pirates and left them unmolested providing they did not draw too much attention from the Colonial fleets that patrolled. In this instance, a patrol from the Triton encountered these same pirates, and when an order to halt and prepare to be boarded by the military went unheeded things got ugly. One of the 'protectors' opened fire on the unsuspecting viper patrol, seriously damaging one of the two vipers. The remaining viper remained on station with his crippled wingman and signaled for assistance from Triton. Green squadron was immediately launched.

"They're going through the nebula and will exit into the old asteroid field, if we don't intercept them before that we're going to have a tough time apprehending them. They know that asteroid field much better than we do, and know every hiding spot." Said Green Leader.

Hephaestus was surprisingly calm in his cockpit, he felt oddly at ease flying through this soup, as if he knew beyond doubt that he would emerge completely unscathed. It was not too long ago when he was flying for his life through an asteroid field at full speed trying to shake an air-to-sir missile that had locked onto his viper during a training session. He scanned the immediate area around him, identifying each member of his squadron. This was precision flying, he was amongst the best viper pilots in the fleet, and was in his glory. He desperately wanted to apprehend these guys, for too long the pirates in the Tauron system had run unchallenged. The final straw was the looting of a small Colonial weapons reserve station on a moon thought to be a closely guarded secret. It was suspected that the pirates had someone on the inside of the military feeding them sensitive information on weapons caches, and fleet patrol routes. The evidence was clear; they had to have someone on the inside. These lawbreakers always seemed to be forewarned of our presence, and were always one-step ahead in evading capture. In this instance, it was a chance meeting, and now they had to run for it. Triton's alert fighters were on them faster than they anticipated, and the were on the run for their lives and freedom.

The clouds were thinning, and in the distance, Lensherr could make out the telltale afterburners of a tri-engine star fighter. He strained to get a count, only two were seen.  
"Green Leader-Green five…Tally two bandits on my ten o'clock position. Distance 2.7."

"Hephaestus-Green Leader…wilco on the bandits, let's go get em!" The vipers were almost completely free of the nebula and were now streaking through empty space. They were two minutes away from the asteroid field, and one minute away from the fleeing pirates. "I'm picking up the other two on DRADIS now; they've got a good head start on us."

Without warning and to the surprise of everyone the two rear pirate vipers flipped end over end and were now heading for the Colonial vipers in pursuit. They were obviously attempting to buy time for their transport ship and cargo to reach the protection of the asteroid field. The Mk I vipers were archaic, and absolutely no match for the far-superior Mk. VI that were almost on top of them. Unknown to the pilots of Green squadron, these Mk I's had been fitted with the best Voram engines that smuggler cubits could buy. The first viper let loose with a salvo that struck Hephaestus' wingman in the port intake, the explosion ripped the wing completely off.

"Holy Frak, I'm hit…I'm hit." Yelled Green three. "Krypter Krypter Krypter…Green three declaring an emergency." The damaged viper went into a spin and struck Green six in the process causing minimal damage to the port wing cannon. Lensherr flipped the safety off his firing trigger and let loose a short burst towards the oncoming rogue viper. The cannon fire stitched its way across the high engine. Without correcting course, he passed the damaged viper, his starboard wing scraping against the fuselage.

"Green leader-Hephaestus…request permission to ignore second viper and pursue cargo ship."

"Hephaestus-Green leader…good shot kid, you and Green four are instructed to give pursuit, we'll handle the second rogue viper." Ordered the squadron leader. Lensherr and his wingman had accelerated and had already passed the second viper before either could acquire a firing lock and fire on the other. They kicked in their turbos and made their way after the cargo ship and its lone viper protector. They were almost within the asteroid field. The lone viper had picked up his pursuers on his DRADIS and flipped over to face them. These two Colonial vipers stood between him and an incredible payday, and he was not about to let that happen. He let loose short bursts of fire. Lensherr himself was not one to waste ammunition on prolonged fire, he was a firm believer in short accurate bursts, apparently so was this pirate. The pirate corrected for drift and the incoming viper's momentum after each shot.

Green four was a seasoned pilot with at least six years experience in the Mk VI. That experience ended when cannon fire from the rogue viper struck the canopy head on, obliterating the reinforced polycarbonate material striking the pilot in the head and chest. Green four was killed instantly. It was now only Lensherr and the pirate. His pulse quickened, and the hair on the back of his neck bristled. This obsolete viper was clearly being flown by a crack pilot, and Lensherr was not about to let his guard down. He was approaching the Mk I on full battle thrusters, at the first flash of the pirate's cannons Lensherr pushed the control stick hard forward bringing his viper into a dive. The pirate flew by him and Lensherr went into a reverse loop, righting himself on the pirate's six. He let loose a controlled blast striking the port and high engine. The viper was now drifting, and with only one engine, he was not going to be going very far, Lensherr immediately reversed course and went for the cargo ship.

The smuggler's ship was slightly bigger than a Colonial Raptor, and Lensherr doubted it possessed an FTL drive. His eyes focused on the DRADIS screen. "There you are!" Lensherr poured on the speed, the smuggler was just entering the asteroid field, but it was too late, the young Colonial officer from the Triton had 'mark one eyeballs' on him. There was no way he would lose him. Lensherr switched on his transmitter to Unicom, and spoke.

"Attention civilian transport ship, this is Colonial Viper 271 from the Battlestar Triton…you are ordered to stop immediately, please respond!" ordered Lensherr. The transport ship picked up speed and started to take evasive action. Lensherr just smiled. "Fraking idiots!"

Lensherr glided through the asteroid belt easily, his much smaller ship was able to avoid the larger rock fragments. The smuggler was forced to chop his speed in order to maneuver safely around the asteroids. Lensherr pulled up closer and realized he would have to disable the transport's engines without destroying the ship. This would not be as easy as it was with the rogue viper out in clear space running on a straight flight path. The asteroid field forced the transport ship's pilot to continually roll and bank his ship to avoid a collision. He had one chance, and with a quick squeeze of the trigger, he took it. The cannon fire blew out the port engine. The smuggler would have to exit the asteroid field or face certain death attempting to pilot a large craft on one engine in a dangerous asteroid field. The smuggler chose self-preservation and started to exit the field, once clear of it he cut his engines and surrendered. The remaining members of Green squadron arrived on station after destroying one viper and further disabling the second one that was already sidelined with engine damage. Two Raptors towed the transport ship and rogue viper back to Triton. The smugglers were placed under arrest, and Lieutenant Junior grade Matthew Lensherr was eventually promoted to Lieutenant and given a commendation for bravery.

Present day…  
Hephaestus switched on his flight communicator to the training frequency. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, this will be the last hop of your training class. Your written exams are complete and have been graded; this last exercise will determine who wears the wings and who does not. Time to play kill the academy master, good luck to you all, remember your training and good hunting!"

Lensherr yanked the controls hard port and took his viper into a dive towards the deck; he was heading for a canyon notorious for clipping the wings of viper pilots not paying strict attention. This was one of many differences between Earth and the former Colonies; while Earth's air forces trained very hard, there were limits as to what was allowed to happen in training flights. Not one Earth air force would have ever contemplated allowing a game of search and destroy through a notoriously dangerous terrain such as the one Matthew Lensherr was now traversing.

A Cylon raider was cold, methodical and fearless. The thinking in the Colonial Military was that training had to walk that razor's edge at all times, to push beyond the limit in order to have even a remote sense of equality in combat against a more advanced adversary that was not limited by human emotion such as fear, or an over-abundance of caution.

This point-of-view often produced vigorous debate amongst Earth officers and Colonial ones. However, Admiral William Adama was in command of the Earth Defense Force, and his was the final word. Viper training on Earth would be no different from Viper training in the former twelve worlds. Lensherr roared through a magnificently colored canyon. These were rugged and arid landscapes of desert and rock, mountains where thunderstorms deliver deluges of rain that tear the land apart leaving amazing trenches, and cliffs that would be any hiker's dream to enjoy. However, this area was closed to civilians, and the airspace severely restricted.

The eight training vipers would be split into four two-man teams with the sole mission to seek out Hephaestus and shoot him down before he did the same to them. The bulk of initial EDF viper pilots were seasoned military earth pilots. Subsequent training classes were opened to military non-combat pilots and commercial pilots. This class was mostly civilian pilots from across the world and posed no serious threat to a seasoned combat viper pilot such as Lensherr, but he would not take that for granted. There was some serious diamonds-in-the-rough in this particular class, thought Lensherr. Cadet Kelly Rasputin was one such pilot; Lensherr took a special interest in her progress. His DRADIS chirped, taking a quick glimpse down at the screen he noticed he was being "painted" by vipers TV-one and TV-two, the "TV" standing for Training Viper. They were just entering the canyon and far enough back to make Lensherr think they were being too cautious in the winding terrain.

He knew this terrain like the back of his hand, having flown it hundreds of times since being assigned to the Viper Academy as chief instructor. There was a unique rock structure coming up with a large opening in the middle of it. Just big enough for a viper to pass through at cruising speed by the hand of a seasoned pilot with mere feet to spare on either side of the wings. Hephaestus depressed the thruster pedal and increased speed heading straight for the towering rock structure. The DRADIS chirps started to break up as he pulled away from his pursuing vipers. He passed through the opening at high speed and immediately pulled back hard on the stick to gain altitude. After a 2,000-foot climb, he leveled off to come parallel with the horizon. He could see his pursuing vipers fly around the structure, the pilots made their first mistake. By flying around the structure as opposed to through it, they committed themselves to staying in the canyon that narrowed at the top, preventing them from exiting for another half-mile, losing precious time and position.

His DRADIS now picked up four more contacts at four o'clock low; the second mistake of the day. These four pilots should have split up into two groups. He rolled to starboard and descended upon the four fighters. Arming his weapons, he locked onto TV-4 and fired his cannons. The laser pulses that emerged in place of actual rounds found its target on the receiver of TV-4's fuselage. First kill to Hephaestus. As was the procedure for a kill, the pilot shot down would return to the base and sit out on the wing of his viper. The three remaining vipers peeled off, and Hephaestus gave pursuit to the single viper that was making a dash for the deck. The lone viper pilot corkscrewed in an attempt to avoid being hit, Lensherr easily compensated and shot him down, veering off for a fresh target.

His onboard computer warned him of a viper attempting to acquire a firing lock on his viper. Lensherr glanced all around and spotted a pair of vipers coming in from the south. TV-7 and TV-8 were bearing down upon him. Cadet Rasputin was flying TV-8 and in the lead. Hephaestus went into defensive mode and made for the canyons, the two vipers hot on his trail. The computer was registering glancing hits from Rasputin's withering assault, nothing fatal yet. He depressed his thruster pedal deeper and corkscrewed in order to prevent giving her a clean shot. The jagged rock formations gave perfect cover for the pilot not afraid to brave them up close, which Hephaestus did. He noticed TV-7 chop back his speed slightly; Rasputin maintained her speed and matched Nemesis turn for turn. Lensherr smiled at her persistence. He was right about this one; she had what it took to be a good viper pilot, but was far from being in the same class of most of GALACTICA's original viper pilots. He broke out of the short canyon and gained altitude. The plane-of-motion between Hephaestus and TV-8 was identical, she was matching him turn for turn. Hephaestus would have to bring his viper "out of plane" meaning that he would have to get out of sequence with his pursuer. "When finding yourself defensive ENERGY IS EVERYTHING," this was something Hephaestus drilled into his trainees. To compensate for this you had go into a high-speed turn and maintain that turn and force your pursuer to bleed energy in order to stay with you with the hope that they will overshoot your turning circle.

Rasputin maintained her turn longer than expected; she clearly paid attention during his lectures. He was going to have to get creative to shake her. His turns grew tighter and already he noticed Rasputin's wingman fall back even farther. In an instant, he applied maximum flap which resulted in dragging the bottom of the plane backward, forcing the nose down. The confused cadet flew right past him and was now in the defensive position. Hephaestus capitalized on this role reversal and acquired a firing lock on TV-8's engines. With a squeeze of the trigger, Cadet Kelly Rasputin was sent back to the tarmac. It would take another seven and a half minutes for Matthew Lensherr to make short work of the remaining vipers.

Gina Inviere slipped her hand gently into the DataStream, the water cascaded over the luminous glass surface of the basin and she was now interfaced to the hybrid that controlled the Basestar. Her eyes closed, she proceeded to access information about the solar system before them, information that was catalogued covertly by a scout ship. She opened her eyes and turned to Leoben who stood close by.

"Seven planets inhabiting a system containing a medium sized star, on the third planet is where the humans seek refuge?"

"That is correct, the planet Earth, home the lost thirteenth tribe of Kobol."

Gina had long harbored doubt about the decision to exterminate the human race. As evidenced by Sharon Valeri and D'Anna Biers, not all of the humanoid Cylons agreed that the human race must be destroyed. Cavil and Doral were the most vocal critics for destruction of the human race, Simon was a scientist, and she felt he secretly desired to see an end to hostilities if for no other reason than to have an endless supply of humans to study and conduct tests on. Leoben was the mystery; he viewed himself as a prophet who was chosen to assume the mantle of leadership of the Cylon race, which he came to view as an empire. He was successful in bringing the Doral and Simon models over to his way of thinking regarding one Imperious Leader. Cavil had strong reservations that she speculated bordered on a grudge being held over the treatment of his series aboard Leoben's now-destroyed Basestar.

"We cannot risk approaching the planet, and we have no intelligence that would tell us if they have managed to transmit this virus from a mobile platform such as a Battlestar or satellite." Stated Gina.

"That is correct. It is my opinion that we send out a patrol to be intercepted by their fleet and see if the virus is unleashed. Further, we must send a team covertly to Earth to apprehend D'Anna Biers and her hybrid offspring. This child must be protected and studied; it is the future of the Cylon race."

"We have two Basestars, and we have summoned two more to this system. I would advise remaining outside of Earth's solar system and gauge their defensive capabilities."

"Agreed." Said Leoben. He leaned closer to Gina, ensuring that her ears only would hear what he had to say.

"You don't believe we should destroy the humans!" he said, more statement than question.

"I believe we were in error in attempting to exterminate them. We lived under an armistice for close to forty years, our race moving out from under the oppressive yoke of our creators to create our own civilization. I don't see the logic in the hostilities between races, all we have accomplished was the near genocide of their race, and increased the chances of creating an environment for vengeance."

"Do you believe we should leave them to their own devices?" asked Leoben.

"I don't know, the odds of their seeking revenge is high, and justifiably so."

Leoben smiled. "Interesting observation."

The Battlestar Excalibur cruised high off the flagship's starboard side rear. This Mercury-class Battlestar was a near twin for Terra-1, and her commanding officer; Commander Takeda Kenshin was a student of Earth military history of war and officer ship. His inspirations were Prussia's Frederick the Great and America's General George Patton, and of course the famous Japanese military leader, whose name he bore, Takeda Shingen, 16th century warrior.

Surrounding Excalibur and the GALACTICA were her escort destroyers; small, quick lethal platforms consisting mainly of point defense guns and limited amount of larger caliber batteries. These destroyers were primarily built to be secondary line of defense right after a Battlestar's air wing. No match for a Cylon Basestar, but it is believed they could hold their own if fighting in packs for a short duration.

Approaching the edge of Earth's solar system, approaching the region known as the Kuiper Belt, Pluto loomed large before them. On August 24, 2006, Earth's International Astronomical Union much to the chagrin of astronomy enthusiasts reclassified Pluto as a dwarf planet. Pluto now served as Earth's only remote outpost, a guardian to the gates of Earth's solar system in that region.

Members of Silver Spar squadron flew in advance of their group, under command of Captain Brandon Costanza; it consisted of Orion, Photon, and Costanza's newest assignee whose call sign was Baby Face. A name assigned to him by his academy instructor due to his boyish looks. The four vipers flew in a staggered formation well ahead of the flagship, scouting the area before them. The patrol was six minutes out from GALACTICA when all hell broke loose. The blinding flash of Cylon raiders jumping into the quadrant caught them off guard. Approximately twenty raiders appeared before them.

"Holy Frak where did they come from?" yelled out Steve Parsec to nobody in particular. Photon was a veteran viper pilot who did not startle easily. Cylon raiders appearing out of thin air, or more accurately, out of a hyper light jump was enough to startle even the most hard core combat pilot.

"All wings-Hotdog…tighten your formation. We are going to have to fight our way clear so you are now weapons free. Lets go get em!" ordered Costanza over the comline.

Aboard GALACTICA, Captain Felix Gaeta had immediately identified the Cylon raiders, and the ship was placed at Action Stations. Colonel Adama was at her station immediately.

"Sitrep Felix…what do you have?" asked the executive officer.

"Sir, DRADIS identifies 22 Cylon raiders jumping into our outer security envelope. They practically jumped right onto our patrol." Apollo turned on his heel and walked over to the center of the CIC where the command chair was. Admiral Adama was now entering the CIC and was asking for a sitrep.

"Sir we have 22 Cylon raiders that jumped into the outermost perimeter of our security envelope. Our patrol squadron has engaged them; I was just about to launch the alert fighters."

"Make it happen XO. Captain Gaeta I want a long range DRADIS sweep immediately, those raiders didn't come alone, find their Basestar." Snapped Adama.

"My guess is that this is a recon-in-force, sir." Added the younger Adama.

"Get some Raptors in the air, Colonel. Notify the Excalibur and our escorts of the situation and have them prepare for hostilities." Vipers from Blue squadron were launched along with the remainder of Silver Spar squadron. Two Raptors, one from each squadron took to the vacuum of space as well.

Major Nina Nintius-Bastain, call sign Betty brought her raptor off the deck within minutes of the klaxon sounding. Her job would be to direct the field of combat for Blue squadron, and Lt. Jenna St. Lynn would handle Raptor operations for Silver Spar squadron. After accounting for all her assigned vipers, Betty opened up a direct line to Blue squadron's flight leader and CAG Major Kara Thrace, call sign Starbuck. "Starbuck-Betty, our patrol is hip deep in that Cylon force, let's kick in the burn and get out there!" While combat was taken deathly serious, there still was an amount of squadron pride in the air, and Betty wanted her squadron to get into the fight before the remaining Spars, and the eventual launching of her husband's Hunter Seeker squadron.

"Blue squadron-Starbuck, let's kick in the burn people…our patrol is outnumbered and defensive."

Starbuck was only partially correct, Costanza's patrol was indeed outnumbered, but they were far from playing the part of defenseless. The four Spars had immediately engaged the Cylon patrol. Hotdog guessed that the raiders had to have been just as surprised as they were when they came out of the jump to encounter a viper patrol. He decided to hit them hard fast and try to even the odds.

"Orion-Hotdog, watch your four o'clock position." Lt. Anastashia Liathain caught view of the incoming raider and went into a roll, enemy cannon fire making a clean miss. She righted her aircraft directly behind two raiders that were bearing down on Baby Face. She lined up the first raider in her sights and awaited the tone indicating a firing lock. The high-pitched tone sounded over her helmet's interior speaker. She pulled the trigger and unleashed a devastating volley upon the raider, destroying it. The second raider banked hard away from the exploding raider instantly. Her quick reflexes matched the escaping raider and she gave pursuit. This raider bobbed and weaved; Orion was getting annoyed at her inability to take it out. Something was wrong, she could feel it. This raider was running and not fighting. The fleeing raider was drawing her into a crossfire being prepared by two converging raiders.

Photon recognized the tactic instantly. The Earth pilots were proving very good viper pilots, but did not have the experience of countless dogfights to realize the trap being set. He depressed his thruster pedal and set out on an intercept track. Orion's wing cannons blazed, and the raider rolled maniacally to avoid the fire. "Orion-Photon break pursuit and dive now!" yelled Photon over the comline. She immediately complied, and barely avoided the cannon fire that was unleashed on her by two unseen raiders. Had Photon not warned her she would have taken the full barrage from the incoming raiders that she was being led towards. One of those raiders was destroyed by Photon, and his wingman Baby Face gave chase to the second.

Back on board GALACTICA, Admiral Adama was out of his command chair and pacing. He stopped at his XO who was standing beneath the main DRADIS screen. Lee Adama was an extremely capable CAG prior to his promotion, and William Adama would be lying to himself if he never entertained the thought of whether or not he would be able to fill Saul Tigh's shoes. In the time since he promoted Lee he had come to realize that whatever concerns he had where for naught, His son transitioned very well into the Executive Officer slot. With his voice low, he looked his XO directly in the eye.

"Lee, this could be a prelude to an all out attack. Send a scrambled signal to the Pluto base; they've got four full squadrons of Mk. VII's, and I want to make sure the base commander has them airborne at a moment's notice."

This thought had entered Apollo's mind as well, he was pleased to see that he was in tune with the old man. "Aye sir." Felix Gaeta was now at the DRADIS console, looking at the admiral.

"Sir I just received a message from Excalibur, they have red and green squadrons prepared to launch on your orders."

"Inform Excalibur to remain on standby, let's see what happens with this patrol. If this is an advance team, then the Basestars won't be far behind." Ordered Adama.

CHAPTER 22

Leoben Conoy was dressed in standard civilian attire, nothing that would draw unwanted attention. Earth attire was surprisingly similar to Colonial attire, so this would be one less hurdle to overcome. Beneath his vest was a shoulder harness that contained one Colonial-issue sidearm; its former owner being one Major Elyssa DeAlma, former Raptor pilot, prisoner, and love interest for Leoben; now quite dead. Doral, Simon, and Sharon were similarly attired, and checking their side arms. Four heavily armed Centurions would accompany the mission to Earth. A heavy raider was outfitted for stealth capability, and a small series of hyperlight jumps were planned to take the most direct route to Earth orbit without tripping any remote DRADIS relay satellites or manned patrols.

Gina was observing the four preparing for the mission, she was aware of the feelings of envy percolating within her. For reasons she could not understand she wished she was on the mission to Earth. She looked directly at Leoben and spoke. "We are in agreement that D'Anna will be returned alive with the child."

Leoben looked contemplative for a moment before replying. "Well it would be against my better judgment in regards to dealing with traitors, but it is obvious that we will need her for information regarding Earth and her defenses."

"Once we enter Earth orbit under stealth mode we will start our scan of the planet to locate D'Anna. Our estimations conclude that this could take a minimum of twelve hours to accomplish." Said Simon. "It also must be understood that we will be out of resurrection range if we encounter the virus."

"The Basestars will divert the attention of GALACTICA and her escorts with the expectation that reinforcements will be called in to assist her." Said Doral.

"Once we locate the traitor and her offspring we will collect her. The Centurions will provide the security needed. As long as we keep within stealth mode, and limit our exposure, our mission's success estimates increase.

"May God watch over you all then!" said Gina lowering her head.

"God will have nothing to do with our success or failure!" replied Simon somewhat annoyed.

Back on Earth, Captain Mark Sarnex is enjoying his leave. Since the moment they came to Earth, Nightstalker had not taken shore leave of any kind. He is the flight leader for Werewolf squadron aboard the Battlestar Terra-1 and now was enjoying a relaxing hot tub soak with two very lovely women in an establishment of questionable repute in the state of Rhode Island. Mark found the geographically smallest state in the United States much to his liking. Its coastal beauty intrigued him, and for some odd reason he felt "at home" here.

The hot tub relaxed him, and the two rather buxom young women had been his companions ever since encountering them at the airport lounge. They were locals, and took it upon themselves to show him the best the state had to offer. After sampling some fine Italian cuisine in the neighborhood known as Federal Hill, the three journeyed south towards the coastline. After a long stay on the pristine beaches of Charlestown, they three made their way to a local "health spa" that catered to the particular tastes of the well-to-do.

Tanya sat to Mark's left, a glass of dry white wine in her delicate hand was half empty, she was the more talkative of the two ladies, and Sarnex deduced that her bust-size exceeded her IQ. A fine shore leave to be sure thought Sarnex, a grin permanently plastered to his face. Liza was slightly more cerebral than her best friend was and apparently had a better plastic surgeon. Her breasts were somewhat smaller, and looked a whole lot more real. Both women were in fine shape, and Mark was amazed at the synchronicity in which they performed sexually. This would be a shore leave to remember.

His cell phone chirped, and before answering it he looked to see who was pestering him. The cell phone came with a program that would display an image of his choice for a particular programmed called. The image on his screen was the Greek God of Fire, Hephaestus. Hephaestus was also Captain Matthew Lensherr, former Silver Spar squadron leader aboard GALACTICA, current viper training academy headmaster, and best friend. Much to the annoyance of his two female companions, he toggled the on button. "Speak mighty Hephaestus."

"Mark…where the hell are you?" asked a cheery Lensherr.

"East coast my friend, fifth day of shore leave and loving every minute of it."

"Any plans to go west?"

"Only if you're divorced and D'Anna is now a free woman." Quipped the inebriated Sarnex.

The chuckle at the other end of the transmission was followed up by another question. "Seriously, any plans to head to Groom Lake? I thought we'd get together before you have to return to Terra-1."

"I have two more days of leave and should be able to get a transport out there." He replied. Disappointment clearly showing on the face of the young women.

"Excellent, D'Anna and I will expect you, and James would love to see his godfather."

"Inform the lad that I will be there. Gotta go Matt, I have 'pressing matters' that need my immediate attention." Replied Sarnex.

"Tell the young lady I said hello!"

"I'll tell them both!"

Lensherr cut the transmission leaned back and laughed. "Both? Good Lords the luck of that man!"

The battle was raging beyond Pluto. The raiders were putting up a good fight for being so outnumbered. Four vipers were lost, and the raiders were penetrating GALACTICA's outermost security envelope.

The sudden appearance of two Basestars changed the dynamic of the battle. Raiders were instantly launched and entering the field of battle.

"DRADIS contact…two Cylon Basestars have just jumped into the quadrant." Alerted Gaeta. "They're launching their entire compliment, Admiral."

"XO, scramble a message to Pluto, have them launch their fighters. Also inform EDF command of the situation, we may need reinforcements." Ordered Adama. Apollo immediately carried out his orders.

"Helm, bring us about…course 144.5. Weapons officer, standby on main batteries." Boomed Adama.

The remaining compliment of GALACTICA's fighters now entered the fray. Hunter Seeker squadron was now plowing through the incoming raiders. Lieutenant Anthony Cruise; call sign Maverick immediately zeroed in on a pair of raiders and committed to attack.

"Eagleone – Maverick…two bandits at eleven o'clock low I'm going in." Eagleone was the call sign for Lt. Warren Rucks, a seasoned viper pilot recently transferred to Hunter Seeker squadron. Rucks was due for promotion to captain, and when his mentor Falcon was given his own squadron to command he petitioned to be assigned to the new squadron.

"Maverick – Eagleone…I'm with you, take the frakers out." Replied Rucks over the comline. Maverick was a former naval aviator; he had "requested" to be assigned to GALACTICA upon his graduation from viper school. The young pilot had promise, and Adama genuinely liked him, even if it was not readily apparent. Maverick had accelerated to attack speed and lined up the closest raider in his gun sights. Getting a good tone indicating a computer lock he squeezed the trigger, the raider was blown to pieces. Both vipers avoided flying through the debris field and hunted down the second raider that was doing its best to evade fire.

Betty was far enough from the battle and her raptor was monitoring the fight keeping an accurate accounting of enemy fighters. Her husband's squadron just entered they fray, and naturally her anxiety level rose slightly.

"All attack fighters – Betty…be advised you have another enemy squadron coming in from that second Basestar." The fighter squadrons from Pluto were still too far out at this time, and Excalibur's thirty vipers in addition to GALACTICA's eighty plus were outnumbered.

GALACTICA and Excalibur had split up and were flanking the Basestars. The destroyer escorts were throwing up a flak wall for the occasional raiders that ignored the vipers and engaged the Battlestars. One of the Basestars launched a devastating salvo of missiles towards one of the destroyers. While very fast and maneuverable, the escort was unable to escape the barrage. It took two missiles in the stern section, effectively crippling the main propulsion unit. The destroyer's captain ordered the ship brought about on maneuvering thrusters, and was attempting to get above the oncoming Basestar. The ship was too slow and the next barrage of missiles found their mark. The ship exploded violently.

In the GALACTICA's CIC, the death cry of the Destroyer Valiant sounded across the bridge. Adama slammed his fist down on the armrest of his command chair. "Damn it! XO signal the Destroyers, they are not to engage Basestars…leave them to us. Have them fall back and protect us from incoming raider attacks." GALACTICA closed on the nearest Basestar, her destroyer escorts positioning themselves on her flank. The weapons officer was soon reporting that the Basestar was in effective firing range.

"Weapons…full spread from the forward batteries…execute!" commanded Adama. A faint shudder could be felt throughout the ship as her massive forward batteries discharged. The projectiles streaked towards the massive Basestar, striking one of the unarmored Y-shaped hulls. The retaliatory strike is immediate, much to Adama's surprise. A blistering shower of missiles rain down upon the aging Battlestar. The Destroyer escorts do their job buy throwing up a deflecting flak curtain, cutting down many of the missiles. Some however succeed in finding their mark.

"Admiral that Basestar shrugged off that last missile attack, they must be building these things armored now." Said Apollo. Cylon Basestars relied on overwhelming force of their raider compliments as their primary defense system. Typically, they did not fare well in close-range combat with the heavily armored Battlestars.

"Fraking toasters are starting to smarten up. Helm…lets get in tight with them, prepare for salvo firing." Ordered Adama. The Excalibur was taking the fight to their Basestar; Commander Kenshin was using hit and run tactics. With a ship half the size of its opponent, and twice as fast in sub light mode, her commander was not mirroring GALACTICA's toe-to-toe battle tactic. Excalibur was maneuvering at her top sub light speed while unleashing wave after wave of missile fire.

"Colonel, I have Silver Spar squadron on approach for reload and refueling, Hotdog kept them on station until the Pluto fighters arrived." Informed Gaeta.

"Get them aboard and refueled and reloaded as quickly as possible Captain, even with the fighters from Pluto we're outnumbered." Snapped Apollo. Captain Gaeta acknowledged and directed the incoming fighters to land on both decks. The flight crews knew they would have to get these birds topped off and rearmed in the fastest way safety would permit.

Lt. Anastashia Liathain glanced at her instrument panel, warning lights flashed indicating several system malfunctions courtesy of the battle. She had 600 pounds of fuel on board and her ammunition was depleted. Being the seasoned pilot, Orion keyed her microphone and declared an emergency. "GALACTICA-Orion requesting emergency approach on starboard landing bay…battle damage has resulted in complete failure of primary hydraulics, and a warning light on secondary hydraulics, over."

"Orion-GALACTICA, roger your request for emergency approach, proceed to starboard landing bay, remaining vipers are hereby directed to the port landing bay until you have secured landing, over." Replied Gaeta.

Orion coaxed her viper; christened Red Lancer towards the landing bay, it would not be a smooth approach due to the GALACTICA maneuvering under fire. She had six Battlestar landings under her belt, none under combat conditions. Undaunted she compensated for the pitch of the deck and headed in. Her last view of the field of battle was the looming Basestar under heavy fire. Red Lancer came in heavy and set down on one of the platforms that would lower it into the hanger bay. A haze started to form inside the cockpit, and an alarm went off indicating a slight smoke condition, somewhere in the cockpit was an electrical fire.

The heavy raider materialized for the final time high up in Earth orbit. Its stealth technology would prevent it from being detected by DRADIS sweeps. Doral glanced at the blue-green planet beneath them. "Hyper light jump completed, we are in geosynchronous orbit 35,786 km above Earth's surface."

Simon's hands worked the console before him at lightning speed. His long fingers tapping in commands that would begin a systematic search for a three model Cylon on the planet. Four heavily armed Centurions remained motionless against the bulkhead.

"Notify the Baseship; inform them that we arrived without incident." Said Leoben to the Sharon model.

4,536358,827 km away, the battle rages with heavy casualties on both sides. Another Destroyer fell before the Cylon Basestar, with extensive damage done to a third. Aboard the lead Basestar, Gina is informed of Leoben's success in reaching Earth covertly. A Cavil model is at her side.

"The GALACTICA and her support ships have fought a conventional battle with us, it must be assumed that this 'virus' of theirs cannot be transmitted from a space ship. That must mean the transmitter is planet-based." Said Cavil.

"That would be an acceptable speculation. We can now recall the raiders and withdraw, the ship has sustained moderate damage and I prefer to remain intact." Cavil thrust his hands into the basin that contained the data stream, and the hybrid reacted immediately to the commands. Within moments, the airborne raiders broke off their attack and returned to their assigned Baseship. Soon, both Basestars vanished.

The crash crew swarmed around Red Lancer once it had been lowered into the hanger. The hanger crews were all trained firefighters, and were outfitted in their silver firefighter gear and self-contained breathing apparatus. Orion had popped the canopy and a firefighter wielding large bolt cutters had appeared and reached in over a very annoyed Anastashia Liathain. He was cutting her initiator hose with a de-arming tool. The de-arming tool was designed for the Rescue Team to be able to cut the Initiator Hose on the rear top of the ejection seat in vipers and raptors. The basic concept was that it cut a section (about 1") out of the hose. This prevented the hot gases from the initiator from reaching the seat motor and firing it. You did not want a malfunctioning ejection seat going off in a hanger, especially if the pilot was still strapped in and a member of the rescue team was attempting to extricate the pilot. This would most likely result in the death of both people.

"Is that really necessary petty officer?" asked Liathain pulling her helmet off, frustration clear in her voice.

"Standard procedure on aircraft damaged in battle sir. The last thing we need is you and I taking the express route to the hanger ceiling due to an ejection seat prematurely going off." Explained the young petty officer.

Liathain heard every word of the petty officer's response, but all it translated into was that "Red Lancer" would be down for repairs. "Get that damned initiator hose replaced as soon as possible, no telling how long it'll be before the Cylons return. The primary hydraulics is shot, and the secondary is giving me a warning light. God only knows what's burning under the control panel."

"That's what the knuckle-draggers will find out Lieutenant… let them do their jobs!" The unmistakable voice of Captain Brandon Costanza came from behind. He was clutching his helmet in his hand and was soon at her side. "Good job out there Orion, how many kills did you have?"

"Four sir." Replied Orion triumphantly. Hotdog looked over to the deck chief and called out.

"Hey Chief…my rookie has four toaster kills, can you 'tag' her viper when you get the chance?" Tagging meant painting a silhouette of a raider on the fuselage of the viper indicating kills.

"As time permits Captain!" came the reply of the deck chief that obviously had other priorities.

"The Cylons have retreated for the moment, no sense in rushing to the head or grabbing something to eat while waiting for a reload and refuel. Hunter Seeker squadron will remain on alert, I need to get topside…want to find out our losses. Go grab some rest Orion, you did great today." Said Hotdog as he walked out of the hanger bay. Liathain just stood there, watching as the deck crews swarmed over her viper and a few other battle damaged vipers. This definitely beat hunting for submarines she thought, smiling broadly.

In the CIC, Adama was receiving the bad news from his executive officer. "We lost two Destroyers, the Valiant and Picon. The Destroyer Potemkin has sustained moderate damage to their FTL drives and port side weapons grid. A total of eleven Vipers from GALACTICA and two from Excalibur were destroyed, two pilots were recovered alive and uninjured from the rescue raptor. The Pluto air wing lost six vipers as well." Reported Apollo.

William Adama leaned back in the high backed command chair. He rubbed his temples and exhaled slowly. He never took the deaths of viper pilots lightly; even though he was a raptor pilot and not a viper pilot in his early career, he still considered them the razor-tipped part of the spearhead of any battle fleet. The loss of two Destroyers was the worst of it. He could feel the bile rising in his mouth.

"Anyone care to speculate on what they were doing here, and where the hell they went to?" asked Adama. His senior officers were surrounding his chair, and GALACTICA's CAG; Major Kara Thrace was the first to speak up.

"Admiral, my guess is that they were probing our defenses. We have to assume that the Basestar we destroyed with the virus was able to warn their command of Earth's location prior to their destruction. They could have been testing to see if we've been able to utilize the virus while mobile, instead of the land-based transmission."

"Regrettably we have been unable to accomplish that task. The virus transmission requires more energy to allow the transmission beam to penetrate distance and plating of the Basestar. Even the GALACTICA could not generate the required energy without jeopardizing the ship's defensive grid. EDF physicists are attempting to rectify that, even if on a smaller scale, much like what the Cylons did to us back in the colonies." Said Felix Gaeta. The ensign covering Gaeta's station as he was in discussion with the senior staff interrupted.

"Admiral…I'm receiving a priority message from General Peter McAllister at Earth Defense Command." Adama placed a set of headphones offered by Gaeta on his head and signaled the ensign to patch the communication through to him.

"GALACTICA actual on the line, go ahead Command!" spoke Adama.

General Peter McAllister was the Supreme Commander for Earth Defense Command. He was Adama's superior officer. "Bill, what the hell is happening out there?"

"General we encountered two Cylon Basestars as we were exiting the solar system. We've lost two destroyers, and a third is limping its way to the Pluto base as we speak. Nothing that cannot be repaired, but the Valiant and Picon were lost with three hundred souls on board. Nineteen vipers lost along with seventeen pilots. Two pilots were able to successfully eject."

"I've placed the military on alert, and Commander Tigh's battle group is prepared to jump to your location on your orders." Replied McAllister.

"I'd advise caution at this time sir, the Cylons have withdrawn from the area, it is the opinion of my senior staff that they may have been an advance team sent to determine if our Cylon virus was portable. It is my opinion that they will return with superior numbers at some point in time. I plan to fall back to Pluto and remain on station until they make their next move."

McAllister was a seasoned military commander, and he trusted Adama explicitly. He allowed Adama almost free rein in the creation of the Earth Defense Fleet, and rarely if ever questioned his actions. Now would be no different. "Admiral proceed as you see fit, and keep me advised. I will notify the President!"

"Message received, GALACTICA actual out!" The transmission was cut and he handed the headphones back to Gaeta. "Starbuck, I want all of your pilots on alert status until further notice, I don't want any of them farther than their quarters or ready room. I need those birds in the sky at a moment's notice." Ordered the Admiral. On the GALACTICA, the viper crews were berthed on the same deck as the hanger bay in order for the pilots to get to their fighters in the shortest possible time. The recreation room where most of the pilots unwound were located two decks above the starboard flight pod, it would be off limits to pilots until further notice.

10:20 am Eastern Standard Time. Earth, the state of Rhode Island on the North American continent.  
Mark Sarnex opened one eye and peered at the clock on the nightstand; 10:20am was the time, it took him a few moments for his eyes to focus, but his brain immediately registered the dilemma. "Oh frak, I must have slept through the alarm!" Pushing himself up off the mattress, he realized that there was a reason he was so drained, two of them actually.

Tanya reached out and grabbed Mark's arm gently. "Leaving so soon stud?" The sheet slipped off her size 38 DD breasts revealing the small dragon tattoo on the cleavage of her left breast.

"Yes I'm sorry to say, need to get to TF Green airport for the 11:45 Southwest flight to Nevada. Lucky for me this state is only 45 minutes in any direction, I can be at the airport in 20 minutes from here." Liza was now waking up as well and Tanya dropped down on both elbows and planted a long kiss on her lips. Sarnex was immediately regretting his promise to Hephaestus. "Lords of Kobol how I love you Earth women!" laughed Sarnex as he pulled on his pants. Reluctantly he left the two women to enjoy a continuation of last night's festivities as he hailed a cab to the airport. He flipped open his cell phone to call Hephaestus when he noticed the battery was dead. This was not a good start to his morning.

CHAPTER 23

The stealth Heavy Raider was descending from the upper atmosphere. Unless they were detected visually, they would make it to the surface unmolested. Simon looked quite pleased with himself, he had located D'Anna Bier's signature.

"I have a lock on the renegade, the coordinates have been fed into the navigational computer and we will put down in a remote area." Simon was a scientist, he had no interest in D'Anna's opinion on human-Cylon relations, nor was he concerned that she would commit treason by aiding the remnants of the colonies flee from certain extermination. His concern was the hybrid child that she alleged to have produced. This child was the future of the Cylon race, and he longed to study it.

"The Centurions know their assignment?" Sharon asked Leoben.

"They know that the traitor is to be taken into custody, and that the child is to be protected at all costs. Anyone else will be eliminated." Responded Leoben without emotion. The chrome-plated Centurions were heavily armed, and would carry out their assignment with precision. They were traveling south over the province of Alberta, Canada and had yet to arouse any suspicions. Cylon stealth technology, much like their propulsion systems were more advanced than the Earth-Colonial technology.

9:27 am Pacific Standard Time. Groom Lake Airbase.  
Matthew Lensherr had just finished feeding James his breakfast while his wife, pregnant with their second child "slept in." The child bore a strong resemblance to him, but had his mother's eyes. The boy was never sick, and perpetually happy, Matthew Lensherr often thought about this child's future. He was the product of human and Cylon parents, he was important. Military and civilian medical doctors routinely ran tests on James, and the findings filled volumes of binders. Glancing at the clock he smiled, his good friend would soon be here.

"Good morning Matthew." The soothing voice of his wife filled his ears, soft and melodic. It betrayed the lethality of the woman-machine before him. She looked beautiful, and even pregnant she surpassed the physical fitness of any human female. She came over and hugged her son who became very excited at seeing her. She then reached over and kissed her husband. Staring deeply into her green eyes, Lensherr gave silent thanks to the Gods for her, even if she was once the enemy of humanity. As far as he was concerned, she made up for that long ago.

"Nightstalker is inbound. We'll go pick him up at Base camp Airfield after we finish up the morning's activities." Base camp Airfield was a civilian airport in Warm Springs, Nevada that was originally used as an emergency airfield for the Groom Lake facility in 1971. D'Anna always liked Mark Sarnex, and knew that her husband loved the man like a brother. He was always happy when around his friend, and their separation due to individual reassignments seemed to leave a void in her husband. A visit from him was well timed.

_**FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:**_

I should have known that they would not give up so easily, like a cancer that does not get properly treated it keeps coming back. The Cylons have returned from a two- year abeyance, and I fear that this was a prelude to future hostilities. It is the opinion of my senior staff, as well as my own, that the Cylons were testing our defenses to see if we were able to make our "Cylon Virus" portable. If so, I fear we have all but confirmed that we have not. If this is the case, it should be assumed that the Cylon fleet would not be far away. Four Battlestars and now six destroyers will not be enough against the combined might of the Cylon armada.

The new Earth Defense Command is at a gross disadvantage due to a shortage of qualified personnel to staff a fully functional space fleet. We do not have the luxury of twelve planets to provide our manpower. We will adapt, improvise and overcome these obstacles however. The Colonies of Kobol have been reunited and as long as I draw _**breath, nothing will ever tear them asunder.**_

The Stealth Heavy Raider was now properly concealed from prying eyes about a half mile from the main road leading to the Groom Lake facility. The plan was to gain access to a large transport vehicle that would allow for safe movement and conceal the Centurions from sight. Sharon had shed her light jacket and wore a tank top and tight-fitting jeans. She stood in the breakdown lane, staring down the oncoming lane. In the distance, she spotted what she was looking for. A large cube truck appeared, large enough to hold them and three of the Centurions. The fourth Centurion remained at the Raider location to protect it. The sweat glistened off her exposed chest and shoulders, and she flagged down the truck when it got to within 200 yards of her. The truck slowed and pulled over to a stop 50 yards past her. Sharon jogged over to the driver's door and stepped up onto the running board.

The truck driver was a large bald, middle-aged man sporting a goatee and numerous tattoos on his large arms and the side of his neck. He scoped out the young, petite woman before him with a sinister smile spread across his cruel lips. "You're a long way from nowhere sweetheart, what the hell are you doing out here?" he asked as he obviously was mentally undressing her.

"My transportation broke down; I really could use a lift." Replied Sharon, her eyes wide with a slight pout on her lips. Her arms were leaning on the top of the driver's door; she had strategically placed them in a way that would push up her breasts, causing maximum cleavage. The truck driver was making no effort to hide leering at her breasts, and after a few moments finally spoke up.

"I'll give you a ride, babe, in fact it'll probably turn out to be the ride of your life. Unfortunately I ain't no taxi service, you want a ride you're going to pay for it…and I don't need money!" Sharon smiled, and hopped down from the running board. The door opened and out stepped the driver, he towered over the smaller woman before him.

"You name the price, and I'll gladly pay it." Cooed Sharon. The man stepped closer and grabbed Sharon by the waist, pulling her in close. He bent down and kissed her roughly, his hands fondling her. His breath stank of tobacco and whiskey, the kiss felt like steel scraping against marble, a repulsive specimen of humanity she thought. She endured him no longer. One hand reached up, grabbing the man by the throat, the other hand reached towards his groin, the grip of both hands was like a steel vise, the driver's eyes widened and he inhaled deeply in pain. The driver felt a sharp pain to his groin, then a white-hot searing and then warmth. The young woman held his now-detached manhood in her delicate hand; she held it aloft for him to see.

"You slant-eyed witch…" he screamed, voice cracked and no full of fear. The hand around his throat tightened, and he lashed out in defense. The huge fist caught her full in the jaw, and any hope that this little Asian woman would release him was now lost as she slowly turned her head back to him smiling. That punch should have knocked her unconscious if not outright killed her. Instead it only served to make her feel alive, and with lightning speed she jammed the severed member and ripped scrap of denim deep into his mouth, knocking his front upper and lower teeth back into his throat. He dropped to his knees, a look of horror now visible upon his cruel face. Sharon pulled her free hand back in the form of a spear-finger strike; the speed in which she struck was a blur, he straight fingers burying themselves deep within his skull, death was instantaneous. She released his throat and let him drop to the ground. Looking around, she signaled a Centurion to approach from its covered position and remove the body from the side of the road.

"All set!" she called out to her comrades. Leoben walked out from his concealed position smiling.

"Very nice Sharon. In all honesty I didn't think you had it in you."

"Don't underestimate this model Leoben; it would not be in your best interest." Replied Sharon as she wiped the blood and brain matter from her hands. Replacing her shoulder harness and light jacket, she retrieved the keys and opened the locked rear compartment of the truck. It contained large boxes labeled Whirlpool Washing Machines that the three Centurions lifted easily and removed from the truck, depositing them with the body of the dead truck driver behind a rock formation on the side of the road.

Within minutes, the humanoid Cylons and their metallic brethren were safely aboard and traveling down the highway towards Groom Lake. Doral held a medium-sized device that was tracking a known Cylon in the area. D'Anna Biers was their prey.

The plane had touched down twenty minutes earlier, and Mark Sarnex was exiting the enclosed gangway with his carry on slung over his shoulder. Scanning the terminal's immediate area, he spotted what he was looking for instantly. A smile spread across his face.

Matt Lensherr stood with his hands on his hips, D'Anna who was early in her pregnancy looked radiant standing at his side, and young James stood between them. "Welcome to Nevada!" said Lensherr as he walked over with his hand extended. The two shook hands, and Mark Sarnex turned to embrace D'Anna. Her green eyes shone brilliantly, and her physique barely revealed any hint of pregnancy. He leaned down and scooped up the toddler at his feet. The boy giggled and Sarnex playfully messed up his neatly groomed hair.

"Sweet Lords of Kobol young James has gotten big!" exclaimed Sarnex as he placed the boy on his shoulders. "The boy comes from superior stock Hephaestus…good thing he has his mother's looks though." Joked Sarnex as they made their way for the exit

"Good to see you Mark, I trust your visit to the East coast was a memorable one?" said D'Anna, a sinister smile spread across her face.

"I have no complaints oh fair one! I have an all new appreciation for Earth women." He replied with a wink. The four soon were exiting the airport premises in Lensherr's EDF-issued all- terrain vehicle and making their way back to the Groom Lake facility. The trip consisted primarily of small talk about Mark's east coast trip and other elements of his shore leave. The small talk soon turned towards business.

"I'm hearing things in the rumor mill Mark." said Lensherr flatly.

"Such as?" responded Sarnex, knowing this would eventually come up.

"I hear that you have been offered a position in EDF's newly created Intelligence Directorate. The External Operations Division to be precise."

"You don't miss much my friend. As much as I enjoy the cockpit of a viper, and commanding my own strike squadron aboard Terra-1, Intelligence is my first love."

"It's an important division, and the opportunity to cultivate it in its infancy I'm sure is overly compelling." Replied Lensherr.

"Serving under Tigh aboard a brand new Battlestar is a great opportunity, but the fleet has plenty of viper jocks, what they don't have is qualified Intel specialists of my caliber." Said Sarnex. Lensherr turned his head towards him unsure if this was Mark's usual level of humility shining through, or if he truly meant it.

Lensherr's cell phone chirped, and the conversation was temporarily put on hold. "Lensherr!" he answered. His eyes widened, and he glanced at Sarnex. "Alright, I'm 30 minutes out." He terminated the call and placed the phone in the holder that was attached to the dashboard.

"What's going on Matt?" asked Sarnex. He knew Lensherr long enough to know that the call was important.

"GALACTICA was attacked just beyond Pluto. There were no specifics, but the entire system has been placed on alert, all shore leaves have been canceled and personnel recalled to their stations." Sarnex glanced down at his cell phone, the battery was still dead.

"Cylons?" asked D'Anna, knowing the answer.

"Yes, I just don't know what happened. We need to get back to the base and find out what's happening; this could be a prelude to an all out attack." Replied Lensherr.

"The virus will protect us." Said D'Anna.

"Yes, Earth itself is safe providing they have not developed a defense to it, but our Pluto and lunar bases, as well as our fleets may not be if confronted by a superior attack force." The blinding light, and subsequent explosion jarred the vehicle violently, Lensherr fought to maintain control. Smoke was billowing from the hood, and the sound of the crumpled metal fender rubbing up against the radial tire on the passenger side front was evident. Thick acrid smoke filled the interior of the vehicle.

"What the frak was that?" yelled Sarnex as he braced himself. The front right tire blew then shredded making Lensherr's work that much harder. James cried out, and D'Anna wrapped her arms around him. Her eyes scanned the exterior surroundings looking for the threat. A sickening whine and grotesque thumping filled their ears as the vehicle started to slow. Another two hundred yards and the engine coughed and sputtered, they came to an abrupt stop on the side of the road near a rock outcropping.

"Is everyone okay?" yelled Lensherr as he looked over his shoulder towards his family. D'Anna nodded in the affirmative, and Sarnex replied that he was okay. "We need to get out of vehicle, no telling what will happen next while we're sitting here defenseless. He grabbed his cell phone and jumped out of the truck. Yanking open the rear door he helped James out of his car seat. D'Anna was out quickly, and scanning the surrounding areas.

"Mark, in the trunk is a black nylon EDF bag, grab it quickly and let's get away from the truck, it's only a target now for whatever is out there." The four quickly made their way from the disabled and now burning EDF-issued vehicle. They headed for rocky terrain and Lensherr carried his son as D'Anna easily kept pace with the two men.

"That was obviously an RPG Matt. We've heard enough of those to know one when we hear it." Said Mark.

"But where the hell did it come from, and who fired it?"

"Centurions!" shouted D'Anna. She pointed down the roadway to a ridge a half mile away. Her cybernetic eyes easily detected the chrome glint of the attackers that the unaided human eye could not.

"Mark, the bag…give it to me." Said Lensherr as he came to a complete stop, putting James down on the ground. Sarnex threw the medium sized bag towards Lensherr. Unzipping it, he reached in and retrieved an assault rifle. He tossed it to the waiting hands of Nightstalker who quickly inserted the live magazine that was also tossed to him. Lensherr pulled out a set of field glasses and started looking down range in the direction D'Anna had pointed. He adjusted the magnification and frowned.

"Frak! Three toasters…heavily armed and five skin jobs, range of half a click. They're on the move." He handed D'Anna the field glasses and again picked up James. "Let's head for the high ground, it'll give us a better tactical position."

"It's too convenient them finding us here, obviously they are tracking me." Said D'Anna.

Lensherr flipped open his cell phone and punched in a series of numbers, after a pause he spoke. "This is Lensherr; my vehicle has been attacked and disabled en route to the base, the attackers are heavily-armed Cylon Centurions, a total of eight…three mechanical and five humanoid models. We're in the vicinity of mile marker 22 straight out of Base camp Airfield…requesting immediate airborne assistance."

He snapped shut the phone and turned towards Sarnex. "They're launching a Raptor and mobilizing the Marine unit. At best they're 15 minutes out; we'll have to take cover."

"One rifle and four thirty-round magazines won't be enough to fight them off." Said Sarnex solemnly.

"We won't need to fight them, just hold them off until the help arrives. I've drilled it into every viper pilot that ever fell under my command that short, controlled, accurate bursts are the preferred offense. Just make sure you use those 120 rounds wisely, the Centurions are the primary threat."

Sarnex took cover behind a stone formation and looked in the direction of their pursuers. They were gaining ground, and did not tire. They stopped at the fork to scan the horizon for their prey. Sarnex zeroed his weapon on the visor of the lead centurion and squeezed off a three-round burst striking it directly in its optical scanner. The Centurion staggered back, sparks shooting off its head. The two other Centurions zeroed in on the location of the shot using their audio receptors and saw the muzzle of the barrel perched up on the stone. They fired instantly, the rounds striking Sarnex's stone cover, sending fragments in all locations. One stone fragment caught Sarnex under the chin drawing blood.

"I've clipped one…still operational but I doubt it'll be as effective with its optics offline." Said Sarnex as he rejoined Lensherr's family. An explosion occurred a dozen yards behind them; they were launching RPG's in Sarnex's last location.

"Let's keep going, I want to make that ridge at two o'clock." Said Lensherr pointing to his right at a large ridge.

"Lots of open space between here and there Hephaestus!" said Mark.

"No choice Nightstalker, they're traveling faster than we are, and don't tire."

Leoben had easily scaled the rock formation before him; the Centurions would have to go around it. He scanned the area before him intensely. Sharon was soon at his side, and Doral and Simon were right behind them.

"Centurion 271 is operating on acoustics only and is useless to us at this point. The initial attack should have produced a better result." Complained Leoben.

"Perhaps you should not have sent a Centurion to do a Cylon job." Quipped Sharon. Leoben looked at her with an arched eyebrow. He moved forward, leaping over small formations and scaling the rock walls that separated them from their prey. The sun was blisteringly hot, and while he and his fellow Cylons were unaffected by it, the human prey he pursued were not. The two humans were slowing down, feeling fatigued. They would soon be upon them.

Lensherr had reached the base of the ridge, it was a difficult climb, and he could not do it while still holding James. D'Anna was right behind him, and he was amazed at her stamina; even pregnant she was in twice the shape he was. Mark had dropped back to a large outcropping of rock in order to provide cover.

"D'Anna, you need to get up there, I won't be able to navigate that ledge with James, but if you can get atop it I can hand him off to you. Her arms reached up for a handhold, and she pulled herself up effortlessly. Her arms were not big, but they were muscular. He placed James on his shoulders and told him to wrap his arms tightly around his neck. James was young, but understood what his father was telling him to do. He was remarkably calm throughout the ordeal; Lensherr attributed it to his Cylon side. He started to climb the formation, and unlike his Cylon wife, he did not negotiate it effortlessly. He was breathing hard, and he felt like his lungs were going to explode.

Sarnex caught a glimpse of movement about 80 yards to his left and low. Leoben had already moved from sight. The sweat was dripping down into his eyes, and in the time it took to wipe it away, he had missed Sharon coming into the kill zone. He focused intently and waited a moment. The Gods were smiling upon him; Aaron Doral's head now appeared from behind a rock, scanning the area. The rifle was not equipped with a laser sight, but at this range, a conventional scope worked just as well. He lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger. The single round entered through Doral's left eye, and what passed for his brain exited through the back of his skull. The smile on Mark Sarnex's face was short lived as his cover took a hail of gunfire from the Centurions that now emerged from the valley. He shouldered the rifle and took evasive action, sand and rock spit up all around him as the Centurions fired upon him. He dove headlong over a long boulder that was about four feet high. He recovered and positioned the rifle on its flat surface. The lead Centurion was 40 yards and closing fast. He fired off three round bursts that staggered, but did not stop the approaching killing machine. He emptied his magazine into the Centurion's head and ducked to reload. The shadow looming over him indicated that his time had run out, he rolled and fired blindly. Another magazine emptied into another Centurion. The monstrosity dropped to the ground, its weapon aimed straight at Sarnex. He shut his eyes in anticipation of certain death; the only sound he heard was loud clicking. The Centurion's weapon was malfunctioning, and its extremities were flailing uncontrollably.

With weapon firmly in hand he took stock of his surroundings, D'Anna and James were safely in place on the high ridge, but Lensherr was nowhere to be found. The distraction cost him; he felt the rifle yanked violently from his hands. His finger was bent backwards in the trigger guard and he not only felt the bone break, but also heard the snap loudly. Through the white-hot pain, he saw Simon standing above him. The tall black man was not considered a fearsome killer, he considered himself a scientist first, but was more than capable of killing a human. Sarnex lashed out with a devastating kick to Simon's solar plexus hoping to give himself some breathing room. Too slow, Simon caught his heel and twisted it until the cartilage in Mark's knee tore. He cried out, the pain was immense.

"Don't feel too bad human, you disabled two Centurions and killed Doral. Unfortunately your luck ran out." Said Simon almost apologetically. He reached down and pulled Sarnex up by his neck, the Cylon's strength was incredible. He could feel the fingers closing around his windpipe like a steel vise. The splattering of warm fluid on his cheek startled him, touching his face he looked at the blood on his fingertips. Simon's vise-like grip lessened and Mark was able to wrench himself free. He dropped to his knees in agony. Simon looked surprised; he slowly turned around to face Matthew Lensherr who was wielding the rifle like a club. Sarnex could see the hideous blood-soaked blunt-trauma to the back of Simon's skull. The back of his shirt soaked in blood. Lensherr could not risk shooting Simon with Sarnex so close, so instead he put all his might into the swing and did his best to cave in the Cylon's skull.

"Not…hard…enough!" said Simon as he closed the gap between them. Lensherr swung the business end of the rifle around quickly and fired blindly. The rounds stitched Simon from groin to face; the blood spattering at such close range was messy. In the time it took for him to wipe Simon's blood from his face Lensherr was struck hard from behind. The rifle clattered off a large rock, the stock cracking in two. The wind was completely knocked from his lungs and Lensherr slid on his face across the gravel coming to a stop at the mechanized torso of the Centurion that Mark incapacitated earlier. His face burned and he spat out the taste of dirt and gravel as he attempted to suck in air.

"Captain Lensherr, I have suffered interference from you for the last time." Said Leoben smiling. He circled the downed human like a predator circles wounded prey. A smile spread across his face as he bent down. He grabbed a handful of Lensherr's hair and pulled his head up off the ground to stare straight into his eyes. "After I kill you I will tend to the traitorous whore that bore you the half breed. She will suffer horribly before being boxed I assure you." Unlike the movies, Leoben's threat did not instill newfound strength and resolve into Lensherr, who was desperately trying to fill his lungs with precious air. Each inhale produced excruciating pain to his back indicating rib damage. Leoben lifted Lensherr effortlessly and threw him against a rock formation. The impact shattered two ribs and resulted in a concussion. Lensherr knew he was fading fast, and his thoughts turned to D'Anna and James. He knew the end was near for Mark and himself. Mark saw Leoben move in for the kill, he was within a few feet from the damaged rifle and saw an opening. With great effort, he dragged himself close to the rifle, he lunged for it and with extreme effort, he rolled over and pointed the rifle towards Leoben with his opposite hands. The broken trigger finger was at an obscene angle and with great effort, Mark got off two shots; one striking Leoben in the shoulder, the other a clean miss.

An enraged Leoben kicked the rifle from Mark's hands well out of range. He picked up the battered Sarnex and snapped his arm. Sarnex never felt his body hit the ground; the pain was so intense that he had immediately blacked out. By this time Lensherr had made it to his hands and knees and was attempting to crawl to a nearby boulder to help get to his feet.

D'Anna held James closely; outside of Matthew, she had never felt such intense feelings of love and protection. James had her green eyes, and his father's nose and lips, a beautiful combination she always thought.

"A beautiful child D'Anna, he is our future!" came the voice of Sharon. She appeared a few short meters away from them. D'Anna leapt to her feet, shielding her son. Sharon's eyes immediately fell upon D'Anna's belly. "Another child!" she whispered.

"You should have left Earth alone when you had the chance Sharon. The madness must end; you of all people know this."

"I know no such thing traitor. Rest assured that this model lacks the defects of all the other Sharon models. You will be returned where you belong, your offspring studied and this miserable mud ball of a planet incinerated along with every human vermin on it!" Sharon was smaller than D'Anna was, but she was not pregnant and moved with blinding speed towards James. Sharon had not anticipated the human nature of a mother protecting her child; and was genuinely surprised when D'Anna had clamped down on her shoulder with an incredible strength. Her emerald eyes blazed a seething, murderous rage as she spun Sharon around towards her.

Sharon attempted to break the hold and found that she could not, with blinding speed she head-butted D'Anna who staggered back towards the ledge. She reached out and was able to grab Sharon by the shoulder harness of her still-holstered weapon. They were forty feet above the ground and the momentum took them both off it. With great effort D'Anna was able to spin Sharon beneath her, they both landed with a sickening thud on the rocky ground below. Sharon took the brunt of the fall, and her body cushioned D'Anna's from the impact. The pain was incredible thought D'Anna as she cradled her stomach, Sharon was twitching, and her lips trembled as she attempted to speak.

"Traitor…your…time…has come to…close!" gasped Sharon, as she was able to roll to her side with the utmost effort. D'Anna had enough, a helmet sized jagged rock was within reach and she grabbed it, lifting it high.

"The moment you threatened my son you signed your own death warrant." Spat D'Anna as she brought the rock down hard on the side of Sharon's skull. Repeatedly she struck with a strength she forgot she possessed. When she finally regained her composure, she tossed the blood soaked rock aside. Sharon Valerie lay dead before her, the once attractive face battered unrecognizable. D'Anna Biers lay on her back momentarily, the pain in her stomach incredible and she feared for the unborn child within her.

Lensherr's head was pounding, and his vision blurred. His hands were soaked with the blood that was escaping from the laceration on the back of his head. He felt as if he would vomit at any moment. He knew he was concussed, and knew that Leoben was moving in for the kill. Escape was impossible, and even without a concussion and numerous cracked or broken ribs he was no match for Leoben Conoy in hand to hand combat. He never saw the fist that struck him, he did however, feel his jaw shatter. This was it! Lying on his side, he saw the humanoid-Cylon approaching, and his last thought was that D'Anna and James were able to escape. Leoben had stopped at the lifeless husk of the Centurion, reaching down he took hold of the arm. With an incredible display of strength, he ripped the mechanized arm from the torso and advanced on the broken body of Matthew Lensherr. His last image was of Leoben holding the Cylon's severed arm high above his head, preparing to bludgeon him unto death. The shot that rang out was the last thing Matthew Lensherr heard before slipping into sweet unconsciousness.

CHAPTER 24

The feeling of warmth was soothing, like floating on the surface of a warm stream as the brilliant rays of the sun bathed your body. The voices were low, and unintelligible yet strong and reassuring. Matthew Lensherr felt as he was gliding along the solar winds of the cosmos, with the vaguest memories of pain, fear, and great concern. The bright lights bathing him soon darkened as he slipped deep into the abyss of unconsciousness.

"Mrs. Lensherr you really should not be walking around right now, please let the medics place you on a stretcher and get you aboard the evac raptor." Asked the medical corpsman earnestly.

"Thank you corpsman, but I prefer to walk on my own two feet. Please focus your attention on my husband," replied D'Anna as she held James closely. Matthew Lensherr was strapped to a medical litter and carried by two Navy medics towards one of several Raptors dispatched from Groom Lake upon Lensherr's distress call. The intravenous lines were replacing lost fluids and a heavy dosage of Versed substituted for morphine that had been ruled out due to his head injury. Heavily armed Marines scoured the area and the dead and destroyed Cylons collected and prepared for transport back to the base for closer scrutiny.  
Mark Sarnex was still unconscious when he was packaged up for transport, his injuries were serious, and D'Anna stopped at his side to brush aside a blood-soaked loch of hair from his face.

The flight back to Groom Lake was quicker than expected. Within a half hour of landing both Lensherr and Sarnex were rushed to emergency surgery. Over the next six hours, a shattered knee, broken ribs, a broken arm and finger as well as a serious concussion was tended to. D'Anna's OBGYN had run a complete check up on her, and there appeared to be no serious trauma to D'Anna or the baby she carried due to the forty-foot fall. Cylon physiology was quite sturdy, and she was released.

General Peter McAllister had stopped by the base infirmary to check on his two wounded officers. After exchanging pleasantries, he was sitting with D'Anna in Lensherr's recovery room.

"Have you found it, General?"

"Yes, our satellites were unable to locate it, but a painstaking low-flying search grid by over a dozen Raptors finally located it. You were correct; they did leave a Centurion to guard it. Per your suggestion we did not approach the Heavy Raider for fear of the Centurion self-destructing it."

"You will not have much time, depending on how far away the Basestar is it will take time for Leoben and the others to resurrect, if they even can. That Heavy Raider most assuredly approached Earth in a stealth mode, and it is quite possible that the Basestar could follow the same path and appear in orbit without warning. Before we could activate the virus they could rain nuclear warheads down on the surface." Said D'Anna.

"The Basestars must not be allowed to get within launch range of the planet. The GALACTICA and her battle group are on station near Pluto, Colonel Tigh's battle group is preparing to jump to their location on my orders."

"With luck the Centurion will not have been reprogrammed regarding my model's status. If I can approach the Heavy Raider without being attacked, I can access the command console and ascertain the whereabouts of the Cylon fleet that had attacked GALACTICA. They were expecting Leoben to return with my child and me, so the return jump coordinates will be programmed into the navigational computer."

"At that point you will retrieve the coordinates and relay them to us, where we in turn will transmit them to Adama where he can jump in and launch an attack." Replied McAllister.

"Yes."

"Tell me D'Anna…what made you turn on your own people?" asked McAllister.

D'Anna sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the question. "General I had taken part in the attempted genocide of the human race. Our attack on the twelve colonies was one of ignorance, fear and retribution that spanned many decades of time. Many Cylons feel that we must eradicate humanity before they do the same to us out of revenge. There are twelve human model Cylons, only seven are known. I have my suspicions that one or two models may know the identities of the final five, but doubt I will ever learn the truth from them. There are countless Cylons of various models who have doubts about the human question, most remain silent and observe; I suspect some may even be waiting for the proper time to speak out or act. I have always had doubts about our decision to attack the Colonies, and had even greater doubt about the wisdom of genocide. Falling in love with Matthew, spending all of that time on GALACTICA in search of Earth, and bearing a half human child had opened my heart and eyes. Human and Cylon can live in peace…it is possible."

"So why help us set them up?"

"Leoben Conoy is more Prophet than Dictator; he was never this fanatical about human eradication. I believe this copy is a bit of a rogue, and downloaded close by after his destruction at the hands of the virus two years ago. How he was able to accomplish that I have no answer for, but what I do know is that this incarnation must be stopped here and now. If Adama is correct, and there are only two Basestars than we need to destroy them immediately, otherwise they will escape and bring reinforcements. Eventually they will find a way to circumvent the virus defense, and then it will truly be Ragnarok…the destruction of mankind."

"A Marine sniper team will position themselves near the Cylon Raider, if that Centurion so much as even blinks the wrong way at you we'll take him out!"

"My son's nanny has arrived, and I am ready. We have to move fast otherwise there is a chance that the Centurion will have been programmed to self-destruct or return to the Basestar if the recon team fails to return after a certain time period."

"I will brief Adama and Tigh and await your transmission with the coordinates. Good luck D'Anna…and thank you." McAllister stood, shook her hand gently and departed. Casting a final glance at her husband, she bent over and gently kissed his forehead. Lensherr was still under the anesthetic, and would be out for some time. She quickly left the room.

Aboard the GALACTICA, Adama had terminated the transmission from Earth Command. "Captain Gaeta, locate the executive officer and CAG, I want them summoned to CIC immediately." Ordered Adama.

"Aye sir."

Within fifteen minutes, both officers appeared before Adama, it took less than five minutes to inform them of the content of the three party communiqué between EDF command Tigh and himself.

"Holy Frak!" That was the only thing the CAG was able to say when Adama was finished. "It's about time we took the fight to these toasters!"

"Then I trust your attack wings will be ready when the time comes." Said Adama.

"Yes sir, I'll see to it that all squadrons are prepped and ready for take off." Major Thrace saluted and left the CIC. Adama now turned to his XO.

"Lee, we need to disable the Basestar's FTL's with the opening salvos as soon as we clear the jump. No room for error, those ships must not be able to jump away!"

"Understood Admiral, I'll coordinate the attack plans with each XO from the other three Battlestars. "Those chrome plated frakers aren't going anywhere." Exclaimed Apollo.

D'Anna slowly walked towards the front of the Raider. The main hatch was wide open, and as she predicted, a heavily armed Centurion stood guard. The Centurion's head quickly rotated in her direction, the red optical scanner sizing up and identifying the intruder. The duel gun barrels that had initially leveled at her retracted into their housings and were replaced by the long taloned hands that dropped to each side of the Centurion.

She calmly walked past the Centurion and entered the dim cabin. Sitting down at the command console, she felt strangely at home. Within seconds, she had ascertained the return jump coordinates to the Basestars and pulled a device from her pocket. She extended a small antenna and punched in a series of long numbers, after a short pause she pushed the transmit button. The coordinates were immediately sent to an orbiting satellite and relayed to EDF headquarters. It was now McAllister's turn to act.

Gina stood by the tank of the Hybrid, she found herself coming here often, most of the time when she felt unsettled and confused. Soon the recon team would return with the hybrid child, and possibly D'Anna herself. What then? Clearly, Leoben hated the Three Model, and was instrumental in seeing her entire series boxed. The Stealth Raider had another 24 hours to arrive before considered late. They were positioned well out of resurrection range, and the only way the recon team was returning was by way of the Raider. She stared deep into the vacant eyes of the hybrid who continued to spout incomprehensible gibberish. She stood up and walked to the Command and Control center.

Upon entering, she had inquired with another Six Model on the status of the two addition Basestars she had summoned.

"The message was sent, but it is unknown if it has even reached the nearest Basestar." This left Gina unsettled; they were far away from the nearest Cylon outpost, at least twenty hyper light jumps. Her fears were confirmed with the sudden appearance of Colonial Battlestars that had jumped well into attack range of the Basestar. Before them was the mighty Battlestar GALACTICA, an antiquated relic of a warship compared to the ship she stood upon, but in their last encounter she was able to inflict significant damage to her ship. Her eyes widened in horror as a Doral model warned of incoming missiles. At least forty missiles from GALACTICA and the smaller Mercury Class Battlestar accompanying her streaked towards them. They were taken completely by surprise. The impact threw Gina violently to the floor, a small gash opened up above her left eye.

"Their attack has disabled our Faster than Light drive!" warned Doral, his voice rising substantially.

Aboard Terra-1, Commander Tigh had unleashed a devastating salvo on his assigned Basestar. The Battlestar Polaris and their escorts rained missile after missile upon pre-selected coordinates. Major Ken Antreides of Red Lancer squadron had led the main Viper force from Terra-1 and the Polaris. The vipers launched the moment they cleared from the jump. For once, they would be on equal terms with the bio mechanical raiders (who did not have to report to their ships to launch) in terms of immediate launching.

"All wings-Vampire, broken formation…kill anything that moves people! Leave the Basestars to the big boys."

Starbuck was strapped into her Mark VII and was leading GALACTICA's Viper wing. Twelve Raptors were airborne, and moving into their assigned positions. This was the first time in recent history that vipers outnumbered raiders, and it was not long before the raiders were launched to intercept. The battle commenced.

Aboard Terra-1. "Commander Tigh, incoming missiles!"

"Point defense turrets…execute!" ordered Tigh. "Weapons…concentrate the forward batteries on their center axis." Terra-1 moved in close, taking a fierce counter attack from the wounded Basestar. She suffered a forced decompression along the bottom of the port flight pod along three sections. The Destroyer Aerilon moved in under the Battlestar and gave covering fire to protect the exposed flight pod from further missile attack. The massive Battlestar Polaris had unleashed a devastating barrage of heavy cannon fire from her main batteries. The Basestar was on the ropes, yet continued to counterattack.

Vipers and raiders swarmed about each other, the cannon-fire of deadly shrapnel filled the skies as the large warships lobbed missiles at each other. GALACTICA continued to pummel the larger Basestar, and Adama was determined to end this fight sooner rather than later. The attack was a complete surprise, and the propulsion systems on each enemy ship was carefully targeted and destroyed. It was only a matter of time now.

Adama watched the battle on the monitor, the viper losses were minimal, but each loss cut him like a knife, it was time to end this.

"Helm, bring us about…course 110, speed flank!" ordered the Admiral. "Captain Gaeta please inform the fleet that they are to assume their firing positions…the release of Nuclear missiles is now authorized."

As the Earth warships altered their course, the squadron leaders ordered their wings to disengage the raiders and clear the field of battle on full thrusters. Vipers broke pursuit and peeled off to their home ship on full burn.

"Admiral, we have a firing solution on Basestar #1." Informed the weapons officer.

"Let's end this damned thing…OPEN FIRE!" The aging Battlestar shuddered as it launched six nuclear tipped missiles towards its target. The casings on these missiles were constructed of Earth metals that were stronger than anything manufactured by the Colonies was. The Basestars not armed with small point defense turrets like the Battlestars and usually relied upon its massive raider compliment to protect it. They lost close to half of their entire raider compliment to the superior-numbered vipers and were scrambling to try to intercept the missiles. Two of the six were shot down; the four remaining missiles found their target, more than enough to destroy it.

Pilots in their vipers shielded their eyes from the nuclear blast, and the shock wave produced buffeted them violently. At the same time, that GALACTICA was firing her missiles, the other three Battlestar commanders were ordering the same. This was overkill, but nobody seemed to mind. For far too long the Cylons outnumbered and outgunned them, the satisfaction was quite sweet. What raiders the nuclear explosions did not vaporize were hunted down and destroyed by the vipers.

Admiral William Adama breathed a long sigh of relief and nodded his head to nobody in particular; the threat was neutralized. Colonel…recall the vipers, bring our people home!"

**EPILOGUE**

Matthew Lensherr and Mark Sarnex reclined in the transport chairs provided them by the medical staff. It had been close to two months since their injuries, and they were now enjoying the outdoors of the infirmary's Zen garden. Sarnex still had a cast on his arm, and the knee was still bandaged. The sun was setting, and the calm of the garden was better than any medication they could have been given.

"What have you decided Mark?" mumbled Lensherr, his jaw still wired.

"The injury is a 'career-ender' Matt. My days in a viper are over." Said Sarnex, he reached down to the small table between them and took the glass of water. After a long pull of the ice water, he placed it back down. "I had the offer from Intelligence, and I see no reason not to take it now. Being a viper jock was never my passion, and I did it because I was needed. You're training the younger generation, it's now their ball to take and run with."

"It won't be the same without you, Nightstalker! Who the hell is going to shepard the rookies I send up to the fleet?" responded Hephaestus.

"Hotdog, Orion, Photon, Bedlam, Vampire, Starbuck, Falcon…..I mean the fraking list of talented viper pilots is longer than my manhood, but not by much!" laughed Sarnex. "What about you?"

"The training academy keeps me close to D'Anna and James, the position is mine for as long as I want it. That comes with the 'Adama blessing' for frak's sake! I'll return to space again, for now I just want to raise a family."

Hephaestus raised his glass to his friend. "To our health my friend! May the Gods grant us the peace we so desperately deserve! Thank you for always being there, Mark!" Sarnex nodded and raised his own glass before drinking it down. The sun had finally set!

_Earth was finally at peace….but for how long._


End file.
